| |
| THOUGH our harps hang on the willows, | |
| Near to Babylon’s turgid stream; | |
| Though our ancient glory mock us, | |
| Like a half-remembered dream; | |
| Still His word runs with the ages— | 5 |
| Still His Covenant He keeps— | |
| Yea, He watcheth over Israel | |
| And He slumbers not, nor sleeps. | |
| |
| Though we dwell in alien countries, | |
| Bound by, yet without, their law; | 10 |
| Though they spoil us, in their despite | |
| Of the source from whence we draw | |
| That which ever cleaves us from them; | |
| He will heed when Jacob weeps— | |
| Yea, he watcheth over Israel | 15 |
| And He slumbers not, nor sleeps. | |
| |
| Though our sword arm be sore stricken, | |
| Although mute be David’s lyre; | |
| Though our lips be locked and silent— | |
| Lips once touched by living fire— | 20 |
| Still, the Temple Lamps are burning | |
| In His own mysterious deeps— | |
| Yea, he watcheth over Israel | |
| And He slumbers not, nor sleeps. | |
| |
| Yea, His word is constant, constant, | 25 |
| As the singing of the sea; | |
| And the High Priest of the nations | |
| Yet shall stand unshackled, free! | |
| And the First-born of the Promise | |
| Sow no more where despite reaps— | 30 |
| Yea, He watcheth over Israel | |
| And He slumbers not, nor sleeps. | |
| |
