1 Let Zion and her sons rejoice, Behold the promis'd hour; Her God hath heard her mourning voice, And comes t' exalt his power.
2 Her dust and ruins that remain Are precious in our eyes; Those ruins shall be built again, And all that dust shall rise.
3 The Lord will raise Jerusalem, And stand in glory there; Nations shall bow before has name, And kings attend with fear.
4 He sits a sovereign on his throne, With pity in his eyes; He hears the dying prisoners groan, And sees their sighs arise.
5 He frees the souls condemn'd to death, And when his saints complain, It shan't be said 'That praying breath 'Was ever spent in vain.'
6 This shall be known when we are dead, And left on long record, That ages yet unborn may read, And trust, and praise the Lord.