227
XIII.
The End.
8,7,8,7,7,7,8,8
Wann der Herr einst die Gefangenen
S. G. Bürde. 1794.
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When the Lord recalls the banish'd,
Frees the captives all at last,
Every sorrow will have vanish'd
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.
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Lift Thy hand to aid us, Father,
Look an us who widely roam,
And Thy scatter'd children gather
ln their long'd-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.
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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 heavenly splendour.
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