|Oh house of Jacob, come,|
And walk with us in light,
No more bewildered roam,
Like wanderers in the night:
The Hope of Israel calls you near,
And Abraham's shield and Isaac's fear
Oh! thou by tempest tossed,
Reviled, oppressed, trod down,
In every region crossed,
With grief familiar grown;
Scattered, and abject, peeled, forlorn,
Thy name a taunt, thyself a scorn.
Though thou are filled, alas!
And drunk with misery,
The cup begins to pass
To them that hated thee;
And now we honour Israel's name,
Our God and Abram's is the same.
Rise, Jacob, from thy woes,
Thine own Messiah see,
He whom thy fathers chose
Waiteth to pardon thee:
At His command we bid thee come;
Lost Israel, hasten to thy home.