Wake thee, O Zion! thy mourning is ended;

God—thine own God—hath regarded thy prayer;

Wake thee, and hail him in glory descended,

Thy darkness to scatter—thy wastes to repair.

2 Wake thee, O Zion! his spirit of power

To newness of life is awaking the dead;

Array thee in beauty, and greet the glad hour

That brings thee salvation, through Jesus who bled.

3 Saviour, we gladly, with voices resounding

Loud as the thunder, our chorus would swell:

Till from rock, wood and mountain, its echoes rebounding,

To all the wide world of salvation shall tell.