Daughter of Zion, from the dust,

Exalt thy fallen head;

Again in thy Redeemer trust,

He calls thee from the dead.

Awake, awake, put on thy strength,

Thy beautiful array;

The day of freedom dawns at length,

The Lord's appointed day.

Rebuild thy walls, thy bounds enlarge,

And send thy heralds forth;

Say to the South,--"Give up thy charge,

And keep not back, O North!"

They come, they come;--thine exiled bands,

Where'er they rest or roam,

Have heard Thy voice in distant lands,

And hasten to their home.

Thus, though the universe shall burn,

And God his works destroy,

With songs the ransom'd shall return,

And everlasting joy.