Shake thyself from the dust; arise, and sit down, O Jerusalem: loose thyself from the bands of thy neck, O captive daughter of Zion. Isaiah 52:2
Daughter of Zion, from the dust
Exalt thy fallen head;
Again in thy Redeemer trust,
He calls thee from the dead.
Awake, awake, put on thy strength,
Thy beautiful array;
The day of freedom dawns at length
The Lord’s appointed day.
Rebuild thy walls, thy bounds enlarge,
And send thy heralds forth;
Say to the South,
Give up thy charge!
Keep not back, O North!
They come, they come; thine exiled bands,
Where’er they rest or roam,
Have heard thy voice in distant lands,
And hasten to their home.
Thus, though the universe shall burn,
And God His works destroy,
With songs thy ransomed shall return,
And everlasting joy.