The foes of Zion quake for fright,
Where no fear was they quail;
For well they know that sword of might
Which cuts through coats of mail.

The Lord of old defiled their shields,
And laughed their spears to scorn,
Their bones lay scattered o’er the field,
By dogs and vultures torn.

Let Zion’s foes be filled with shame;
Her sons are blessed of God;
Though scoffers now despise their name
The Lord shall break their rod.

Oh, would our God to Zion turn,
God with salvation clad;
Then Judah’s harps should music learn,
And Israel be glad.

O that the Lord’s salvation
Were out of Zion come,
To heal His ancient nation,
To lead His outcasts home!

How long the holy city
Shall heathen feet profane?
Return, O Lord, in pity;
Rebuild her walls again.

Let fall Thy rod of terror;
Thy saving grace impart;
Roll back the veil of error;
Release the fettered heart.

Let Israel, home returning,
Their lost Messiah see;
Give oil of joy for mourning,
And bind Thy church to Thee.