The tumult and the shouting dies;
     The Captains and the Kings depart;
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
     An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Far-called our navies melt away;
     On dune and headland sinks the fire;
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
     Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
     Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
     Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
     In reeking tube and iron shard—
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
     And guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!