227 XIII.
The End.
8,7,8,7,7,7,8,8
Wann der Herr einst die Gefangenen
S. G. Bürde. 1794.
| When the Lord recalls the banish'd, Frees the captives all at last, Every sorrow will have vanish'd 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 an us who widely roam, And Thy scatter'd children gather ln their long'd-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 heavenly splendour. | |