A voice from the des­ert comes aw­ful and shrill:
The Lord is ad­vanc­ing—pre­pare ye the way;
The word of Je­ho­vah He comes to ful­fill,
And o’er the dark world pour the splen­dor of day.

Bring down the proud mount­ain, though tow­er­ing to Hea­ven,
And be the low val­ley ex­alt­ed on high!
The rough path and crook­ed be made smooth and ev­en,
For, Si­on, your king, your Re­deem­er, is nigh.

The beams of sal­va­tion His pro­gress il­lume,
The lone, drea­ry wil­der­ness sings of her God;
The rose and the myr­tle will sud­den­ly bloom,
The ol­ive of peace spread its branch­es abroad.