Psalm CXXVI

WHEN Zion’s dire captivity

The Lord had turned once more,

And we, like those who dream amazed

Could scarce believe it o’er,

Then was our mouth with laughter filled

Our tongue with song too, fraught;

Then said the heathen Lo! the Lord

For them great things hath wrought!

The Lord hath done great things for us,

At which we are elate.

Turn, as the southern streams, again,

O Lord! our captive state.

Who sow in tears, shall reap in joy,

And he that wand’ring grieves,

Yet bearing precious seeds, ere long,

Shall with the joyous voice of song,

Come laden with his sheaves.