When the Lord recalls the banished,
Frees the captives all at last,
Every sorrow will have vanished
Like a dream when night is past;
Then shall all our hearts rejoice,
And with glad resounding voice
We shall praise the Lord who sought us,
For the freedom He hath wrought us.
Lift Thy hand to aid us, Father,
Look on us who widely roam,
And Thy scattered children gather
In their longed-for, promised home;
Steep and weary is the way,
Shorten Thou the sultry day;
Faithful warriors hast Thou found us,
Let Thy peace for aye surround us.
In that peace we reap in gladness
What was sown in tearful showers:
There the fruit of all our sadness
Ripens—there the palm is ours;
There our God upon His throne
Is our full reward alone;
They who all for God surrender
Bring their sheaves in heav’nly splendor.