Public Humiliation.
1 Great Maker of unnumbered worlds,
And whom unnumbered worlds adore,--
Whose goodness all thy creatures share,
While nature trembles at thy power,--
2 Thine is the hand that moves the spheres,
That wakes the wind, and lifts the sea;
And man, who moves the lord of earth,
Acts but the part assigned by thee.
3 While suppliant crowds implore thine aid,
To thee we raise the humble cry;
Thine altar is the contrite heart,
Thine incense the repentant sigh.
4 O may our land, in this her hour,
Confess thy hand, and bless the rod,
By penitence make thee her friend,
And find in thee a guardian God.