Judge eternal, throned in splendour, Lord of lords and King of kings, With your living fire of judgement Purge this realm of bitter things; Comfort all its wide dominion With the healing of your wings. Weary people still are longing For the hour that brings release, And the city's crowded clamour Cries aloud for sin to cease; And the countryside and woodlands Plead in silence for their peace. Crown, O Lord, your own endeavour, Cleave our darkness with your sword, Cheer the faint and feed the hungry With the richness of your word; Cleanse the body of this nation Through the glory of the Lord.