Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/217

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JUSTICE

Come, Lord of hosts! establish righteousness!
And in the hearts of men and nations build
Love's great Republic that the soul has willed,
And with Thy mercy cover our distress!
How many broken realms world-wide confess
The weakness wherewithal man's state is filled!
Pride in our vain accomplishment is killed;
Our hopes, departing, leave us comfortless.


O, raise our spirits from the deadening shock
That, like an earthquake, blasteth city and town,
And ease earth's unintelligible woe!
Millions of men their sorrows interlock
Before Thee coming; prayers Thy praises drown.
Justice, O Lord, high o'er all nations show!


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