Let Zion and her sons rejoice;

Behold the promised hour;

Her God hath heard her mourning voice,

And comes t’ exalt his power.

2 Her dust and ruins, that remain,

Are precious in his eyes;

Those ruins shall be built again,

And all that dust shall rise.

3 The Lord will raise Jerusalem,

And stand in glory there;

All nations bow before his name,

And kings attend with fear.

4 He frees the soul condemned to death;

Nor, when his saints complain,

Shall it be said that praying breath

Was ever spent in vain.

5 This shall be known when we are dead,

And left on long record,

That ages yet unborn may read

And praise and trust the Lord.