God of our fathers, known of old, |
Lord of our far-flung battle-line, |
Beneath whose awful Hand we hold |
Dominion over palm and pine - |
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, |
Lest we forget - lest we forget! |
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The tumult and the shouting dies; |
The Captains and the Kings depart: |
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, |
An humble and a contrite heart. |
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, |
Lest we forget - lest we forget! |
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Far-called, our navies melt away; |
On dune and headland sinks the fire: |
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday |
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! |
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, |
Lest we forget - lest we forget! |
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If, drunk with sight of power, we loose |
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe, |
Such boastings as the Gentiles use, |
Or lesser breeds without the Law - |
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, |
Lest we forget - lest we forget! |
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For heathen heart that puts her trust |
In reeking tube and iron shard, |
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And guarding, calls not Thee to guard, |
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Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord! |