Yet say not, Judah’s hope is fled,
Her high and holy trust—
That she hath laid her mourning head
For ever in the dust.
Oh! say not that her sun went down,
Quenched in her judgment night,
In deepest darkness of its frown,
To rise no more in light.
Say rather—for the Lord hath said,
And she shall hear the sound—
“O captive daughter! lift thine head
In beauty from the ground.
“Arise, and take thy solemn vows;
Thy regal robe prepare;
And like Messiah’s bridal spouse,
Thy crown of glory wear.
Bid Kedar’s wilderness rejoice,
The mountains round thee sing;
Jerusalem, lift up thy voice
Before the Lord, the King.
Jerusalem, and mayst thou yet
Look up without despair?
And turn to mournful Olivet,
And hail thy Sovereign there?
Will He forgive the guilty stain
That cursed thy weary land;
His tear upon thy withering plain,
His blood upon thy hand?
Yes—fear not, Judah, even now
Thy name is on His heart;
The everlasting hills may bow,
The mountains may depart;
But Zion’s Lord shall ne’er forget
The counsels of His will;
And His eternal love is set
On Zion’s daughter still.
Moriah heard Jehovah swear
To Abraham and his seed!
Moriah heard Messiah’s prayer
For Abraham’s children plead.
And Judah’s ransomed tribes shall see
The Mighty One again;
And bow to Him the suppliant knee,
And bless His gentle reign.
The watchful nations wait around
To mark her gathering power;
The lengthened shadows on the ground
Presage the coming hour.
’Tis bursting through her twilight doom
Of mingled day and night;
Her glory kindles in the gloom—
At evening time ’tis light!
Sing, Gentile earth, for Judah sing,
The Lord hath loosed her bands;
Creation! shout for Zion’s King,
And clap thy joyful hands!