O God, the heathen have attacked

O God, the heathen have attacked
your holy land, your house of prayer;
your city they have left a wreck,
your servants dead and dying there,
as if we had no God to help,
no king’s defence, no father’s care.

2. Lord, will your anger never cease?
It overwhelms us like a flood,
while unbelieving nations round
deride our tears, our pain and blood.
But will you let them mock your name
and taunt us: ‘Now where is your God?’

3. Lord, listen to the prisoners’ groans,
set free the slaves condemned to die;
bring justice to this tortured world,
and when you hear your people’s cry
we shall for ever give you thanks
and sing your glory, God most High!