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1 High on the bending willows hung,
Israel, still sleeps the tuneful string?
Still mute remains the sullen tongue,
And Sion's song delays to sing?
2 Awake! thy loudest raptures raise;
Let harp and voice unite their strains;
Thy promised King His sceptre sways;
Behold, thy own Messiah reigns.
3 By foreign streams no longer roam,
And weeping, think on Jordan's flood;
In every clime behold a home,
In every temple see thy God.
4 No taunting foes the song require;
No strangers mock thy captive chain:
Thy friends provoke the silent lyre,
And brethren ask the holy strain.
5 Then why, on bending willows hung,
Israel, still sleeps the tuneful string?
Why mute remains the sullen tongue,
And Sion's song delays to sing?
Text Information | |
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First Line: | High on the bending willows hung |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1871 |
Topic: | Missions and Charities |