All human kind from pole to pole
Into one grand, harmonious whole.
Men war with men in every clime,
Commotions rock this earthly ball;
Our souls are covered o'er with grime—
Sad fruits of our Adamic fall,
But grace shall triumph in the end,
And good the evil far transcend.
Thy throne remains forever firm,
And here, amidst the strife of men,