Daughter of Zion, awake from thy sadness!

Awake! for thy foes shall oppress thee no more;

Bright o’er thy hills dawns the day-star of gladness,

Arise! for the night of thy sorrow is o’er.

Strong were thy foes, but the arm that subdued them

And scattered their legions, was mightier far;

They fled like the chaff from the scourge that pursued them;

Vain were their steeds and their chariots of war.

Daughter of Zion, the power that hath saved thee

Extolled with the harp and the timbrel should be;

Shout! for the foe is destroyed that enslaved thee;

Th’ oppressor is vanquished, and Zion is free.