1 When the Lord recalls the banished,
Frees the captives all at last,
Every sorrow will have vanished
Like a dream when night is past;
Then shall all our hearts rejoice,
And with glad resounding voice
We shall praise the Lord who sought us,
For the freedom He hath wrought us.
2 Lift Thy hand to aid us, Father,
Look on us who widely roam,
And Thy scattered children gather
In their longed-for, promised home;
Steep and weary is the way,
Shorten Thou the sultry day;
Faithful warriors hast Thou found us,
Let Thy peace for aye surround us.
3 In that peace we reap in gladness
What was sown in tearful showers:
There the fruit of all our sadness
Ripens—there the palm is ours;
There our God upon His throne
Is our full reward alone;
They who all for God surrender
Bring their sheaves in heav’nly splendor.