1 Comfort, comfort you my people,
Tell of peace, thus saith our God;
Comfort those who sit in darkness
Bowed beneath oppression's load.
Speak ye to Jerusalem
Of the peace that waits for them;
Tell them that their sins I cover,
And their warfare now is over.
2 For the herald's voice is crying
In the desert far and near,
Bidding us to make repentance
Since the kingdom now is here.
O that warning cry obey!
Now prepare for God a way;
Let the valleys rise in meeting
And the hills bow down in greeting.
3 Make ye straight what long was crooked,
Make the rougher places plain:
Let your hearts be true and humble,
As befits God's holy reign,
For the glory of the Lord
Now o'er the earth is shed abroad;
And all flesh shall see the token
That God's word is never broken.
|First Line:||Comfort, comfort you my people|
|Title:||Comfort, Comfort You My People|
|Author:||Johannes G. Olearius (1671)|
|Translator:||Catherine Winkworth (1863, alt.)|
|Key:||F Major or modal|