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Drove back the liquid mass
To form a pathway; bade the waters flee,

For thy redeemed to pass ?
Thus shall return Jehovah's ransomed ones,
With shouts of joy, with lasting gladness crowned.
Praise and thanksgiving shall delight her sons:
Sorrow and sighing never more be found.

I, even I, am he that comfort gives,
Who art thou that thou fearest wretched dust,
Or son of man, who but as herbage lives,
Nor will in thy Creator place thy trust,
Who stretched forth the heavens, and framed the earth?
Yet still thou fearest the oppressor's hand,
As if it were just ready to burst forth.
And where doth now th’ oppressor's fury stand ?
With speed approaches he,
Who comes to set the captive free;
That he may not in dungeon meet his death,
Nor yet by wasting famine yield his breath.
For I am God, thy Lord;
By my almighty word
The ocean's depths I clave,
And stilled the roaring wave:
Jehovah, Lord of hosts will help afford.

Lo, I have set my words within thy mouth,
And with my hand have overshadowed thee;
To plant the heavens, and raise both north and south,

to Jacob, Lo, my sons are ye.

Awake, awake, Jerusalem! Stand up,
Who from God's hand bath drunk the


of wrath! Of trembling thou hast wrung the bitter cup.

Behold, of all the sons she hath brought forth,
There is not one to lead her by the hand;
Not one of these as her support will stand.

For her two sorrows who shall grief afford ?

Lo, desolation and destruction, these,
Which come on thee as famine and the sword ?

Of thy astonished sons, each one who flees
Is taken in a snare, as a wild bull,
With God's rebuke and wrath drenched to the full.

Wherefore, O thou afflicted, hear my word,

And thou, who drunken art, but not with wine,
Thus unto thee saith thy avenging Lord-
· I will remove this heavy cup of mine;
That cilp the dregs whereof thou hadst before,
Thou shalt partake of it again no more.

But this into the hands of those I send

Who occupy the proud oppressor's seat; And cry

to thee, Down to the dust descend, That we may trample thee beneath our feet ! And as the ground thy body hast thou placed, Yea, even as the street to those that passed.

AWAKE, O Sion, in thy strength,

And clothe thyself in bright array;
Thou the defiled no more shalt meet.
Zion, ascend thy lofty seat !
Arouse thee from the dust at length!

Thy captive fetters cast away!

Thus saith the Lord,
For nothing were ye sold;
Nor shall with gold or silver be restored.
In Egypt's bonds my people toiled of old;
Now these in servile chains Assyria's legions hold.

What shall I do to vindicate my fame?

Since all my people thus are cast away, And their proud conquerors their taunts proclaim,

While blasphemies are uttered day by day. My ears have hearkened to my people's cry; Lo! I have said the word—and here am I.

How beautiful

the hills

appear The feet of the appointed messenger,

The harbinger of peace to all around,
Who points to where salvation may be found,
And calls to Sion in exulting strains,
Arise ! behold thy God Jehovah reigns !

Thy watchers shout, together raise their voice,
For they shall see Jehovah face to face.
Ye ruins of Jerusalem, rejoice;
For God hath comforted his holy place.
Jehovah hath made bare his arm in sight of every nation,
And marth's remotest bounds have seen the work of our


Depart, depart; touch no polluted thing,
Ye that the consecrated vessels bring;
In haste from Babylon ye shall not go,
But all your train a stately march shall show.
Jehovah's self shall with your van combine,
And on your rear the God of Israel shine.

I grant success to this my servant tried,
He shall be raised, and greatly magnified ;
As many were astonished at the sight,
So little could his outward form delight:
So now to nations he amazement brings;
Before him shall be closed the mouths of kings;
For they shall see what had not been declared,
They shall consider what they had not heard.

SAY, who to our report will credence grant?

To whom hath been Jehovah's arm revealed ?

before them like a tender plant,
And as the root a thirsty soil doth yield;
There is no form or beauty to admire,
Nor doth his countenance meet our desire.

He was despised, and by mankind rejected,

A man of sorrows, and acquaint with grief;
We hid our faces, we his woes neglected,

We scorned his words, and gave them no belief;
Verily, our infirmities he bore,
And of our sorrows had the heavy store.

We deemed God's wrathful judgments him had found,

Some punishment had reached him from the skies; For our transgressions he received each wound,

And he was struck for our iniquities.
By his deep sufferings is our pardon sealed,
And by his stripes are all our bruises healed.

We all of us like erring sheep have strayed,

And each to his own way hath turned aside.

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