O Israel, to Christ awake,
Bend low, God’s chast­en­ing rod to take,
Judgment will set with op­en book;
Upon the dy­ing Lamb now look:
For you He died—Je­ho­vah God—
He’ll cleanse you in His pre­cious blood.

O Zion, cap­tive daugh­ter, come,
Behold the Lamb! Be­hold the Son!
Look! see His arm is out­stretched still
To bring thee home in His good will;
Awake! as in the an­cient days;
The vi­sion will re­flect His rays.

Jerusalem! Awake! awake!
Shake off thy dust—idols for­sake!
Oh, heark­en, daugh­ter, un­der­stand,
Return un­to thy fa­ther­land.
Awake! as in the an­cient days,
And on the ho­ly ci­ty gaze.

Arise and shine in God’s true light,
All ene­mies He’ll put to flight,
With singing un­to Zi­on come,
Praising thy God for His dear Son,
Awake! as in the an­cient days,
And join in psalms and sing His praise.

Awakened by the Son of God,
With Spir­it’s wit­ness to the blood,
Sorrow and mourn­ing flee away,
The Com­fort­er has come to stay,
Awakened as in a­ncient days—
The Christ of God has fixed thy gaze.