On Thee, Great Ruler of the Skies

On Thee

great Rul­er of the skies

On Thee our stead­fast hope re­lies;

When hos­tile pow­ers against us join

What aid so pre­sent

Lord

as Thine?

By Thee se­cured

no fears we own

Though earth

con­vulsed

be­neath us groan

Though tem­pests o’er her surface sweep

And whirl her hills in­to the deep—

Though

armed with rage

be­fore our eyes

That deep in all its hor­rors rise

While

as the tu­mult spreads around

The mount­ains trem­ble at the sound.

Behold fair Si­on’s blest re­treat

Where God has fixed His awful seat;

Whose walls to Heav­en’s al­migh­ty Lord

His chos­en re­si­dence af­ford.

No tem­pests here li­cen­tious stray

But soft along their le­vel way

The sacr­ed streams their course main­tain

And crown with health their hap­py plain.

God

ev­er watch­ful

ev­er nigh

Bids storms around her harm­less fly;

His ear­ly care each foe with­stands

And back­ward turns the yield­ing bands.