O why so far removed, O Lord,
And why so distant be;
Why hidest Thou Thy face from us
In our anxiety?
The wicked in unholy pride
The lowly poor oppress;
Let them be taken in the snare
Of their own craftiness.
The wicked in his arrogance
Refuses God to fear,
Nor is it in his thoughts at all
The sovereign God to hear.
Break Thou the force of evil men,
Befriend the fatherless,
Trace out the wicked everywhere,
Uproot their wickedness.
The Lord our God is sovereign still,
The heathen all are slain.
Thou, Lord, hast heard the suppliant's prayer
And dost his heart sustain.
