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 thy ran­somed shall re­turn,
And ev­er­last­ing joy.