1 O LORD, how long shall heathens hold
The heritage that once was thine?
How long shall they invade thy fold,
How long pollute thy holy shrine?
2 Behold the violence, the scorn,
And all the wrongs thy people hear:
Opprest, insulted, and forlorn,
Shall they no more thy favour share?
3 O let their sins be washed away,
For thy compassion, Lord, is great;
For thy name's sake, forbear to slay,
And lift them from their low estate.
4 Let Israel's captive sons be free;
Restore them, and remove thy rod;
That all the earth thy hand may see,
And, wondering, own thee for their God.