The Awakening of Israel

MUST the sea plead in vain that the river

May return to its mother for rest

And the earth beg the rain-clouds to give her

Of dews she has drawn from her breast?

Swing inward, Oh! gates of the future,

Swing outward, ye doors of the past,

For the soul of Israel is waking

And rising from slumber at last.

The black clouds of night are retreating,

The white peaks have signaled the day;

And freedom her long roll is beating

And calling her sons to the fray.

From the dust where his proud tyrants found him

Unhonored, and scorned and betrayed,

He shall rise with the sunlight around him

And rule in the realm he has made.