When wilt Thou save the people? O God of mercy, when? Not kings and lords, but nations, Not thrones and crowns, but men! Flowers of Thy heart, O God, are they; Let them not pass, like weeds, away; Their heritage a sunless day: O God, save the people! Shall crime bring crime forever, Strength aiding still the strong? Is it Thy will, O Father, That man shall toil for wrong? “No,” say Thy mountains; “No,” Thy skies; Man’s clouded sun shall brightly rise, And songs ascend, instead of sighs: O God, save the people! When wilt Thou save the people? O God of mercy, when? The people, Lord, the people, Not thrones and crowns, but men! God save the people; Thine they are, Thy children, as Thine angels fair: From vice, oppression, and despair, O God, save the people! |