Hail to the bright­ness of Zi­on’s glad morn­ing!
Joy to the lands that in dark­ness have lain!
Hushed be the ac­cents of sor­row and mourn­ing;
Zion in tri­umph be­gins her mild reign.

Hail to the bright­ness of Zion’s glad morn­ing!
Long by the pro­phets of Is­ra­el fore­told!
Hail to the mill­ions from bond­age re­turn­ing!
Gentiles and Jews the blest vi­sion behold.

Lo, in the de­sert rich flow­ers are spring­ing,
Streams ev­er co­pi­ous are glid­ing along;
Loud from the mount­ain tops ech­oes are ring­ing,
Wastes rise in ver­dure, and min­gle in song.

See, from all lands, from the isles of the ocean,
Praise to the Sav­ior as­cend­ing on high;
Fallen the en­gines of war and com­mo­tion;
Shouts of sal­va­tion are rend­ing the sky.