�Tis Thine alone, almighty Name,
To raise the dead to life,
The lost inebriate to reclaim
From passion�s fearful strife.

What ruin hath intemperance wrought
How widely roll its waves!
How many myriads hath it brought
To fill dishonored graves!

And see, O Lord, what numbers still
Are maddened by the bowl,
Led captive at the tyrant�s will
In bondage, heart and soul.

Stretch forth Thy hand, O God, our King
And break the galling chain;
Deliverance to the captive bring,
And end the usurper�s reign.

The cause of temperance is Thine own;
Our plans and efforts bless;
We trust, O Lord, in Thee alone
To crown them with success.