Classic Poem

O God, Who guid'st the fate of nations,
Almighty over every land,
Both life and death and all mutations
Controlling with Thy mighty hand,
What punishment Thy will ordaineth
For sins that Sweden must atone
She bears with gladness, while remaineth
The ancient freedom she has known.
'T is this that shields when dangers lower,
That comforts her when griefs enfold,
That guards when foes would overpower
Better than Sveaborg of old.
Come want! come all you eastern slaves here!
Come faction, cast your firebrand!
'T is but that we may dig your graves here
By freedom's might on Svithiod's strand.