The proud and haughty tremble with affright;
The hireling priests against the truth engage,
While hell beneath stands trembling filled with rage.
False are their hopes and all their struggles vain,
Their craft must fall and with it all their gain;
The deaf must hear, the meek their joy increase,
The poor be glad and their oppression cease.
See Congress stand in all the power of state,
Destined, like Cyrus, now to change the fate
Of Joseph's scattered remnants! long oppressed,
And bring them home unto a land of rest;
Beyond the Mississippi's rolling flood,
A land before ordained by Israel's God!
Where Zion's city shall in grandeur rise,
And fill the wondering nations with surprise.
From north, and south, and east behold them come
By tens of thousands to their destined home!
From heaven's king commissioned to proclaim
Repentance, and baptism in his name,
His servants to the Gentiles lift their voice,
While tens of thousands in the sound rejoice,
And they to Zion bend their joyful way,
With songs of joy and gladness hail the day.
The priests and people filled with dread surprise,
Alarm'd at their approach vindictive rise,
And lest the power of truth should still prevail,
They think to cause the prophecy to fail.
And if by fire and sword the saints they drive,
While other sects and parties grow and thrive,
As bloody persecution lifts her thong,
All parties cry at once, the saints are wrong;
For if they were the chosen of the Lord,
He would protect them and fulfil his word.
O fools, and slow of heart to understand
The prophecies concerning Zion's land.
Have ye not read the words of them of old?
When wrapt in vision clear they have foretold
The wicked deeds that you of late fulfil'd,
The scenes that have transpired on Zion's hill?
He that is truly wise will search and see,
He that's already blind more blind shall be;
One truth is clear, the ransom'd shall return,
Another is, the wicked shall be burned.
How vain the thoughts that stripes would change the mind,
Convince the judgment and convert mankind,
Or cruel scourge of mobs with all their rage,
Make man believe that this enlightened age
Needs no repentance, faith, nor nothing more
Than the religion they enjoyed before.
If persecution were good argument,
Why not the Jews make ancient saints repent?
Paul of all men the hardest to reclaim,
Stoned, whipt, imprisoned, still remained the same;
Ten thousand heretics rejoiced in fire,
While priests for their conversion did aspire.
'Tis true the Romans many converts made,
When they the inquisition call'd to aid,
Perhaps these modern times have made a few,
Who turn'd from saints to join the drunken crew;
But persecution spreads the truth abroad,
Make servants bolder in the cause of God.
Adds to their numbers, twice ten thousand more,
And makes them stronger than they were before.
See men commission'd in Messiah's name,
Wide o'er the earth the joyful news proclaim;
While from on high the spirit's power descends
On all the saints that bow to his commands,
The deaf shall hear, the blind their sight receive,
The dumb shall sing with joy, the dying live,
The lame shall leap, and all mankind behold
Jehovah's arm made bare, like days of old.
While his elect to Zion gather home,
From every tribe and nation see them come.
See o'er the land where desolation reign'd,
The saints in peace, enjoy their rights again.
Rise, crown'd with light, imperial Zion rise,
Prepare to meet the city from the skies,
Let Joseph's remnants at thy gates attend,
Walk in thy light, and in thy temple bend,
While Gentile saints thy spacious courts shall throng,
And join their voices in the general song;
No more shall proud oppression drive the hence,
Nor terror come, for God is your defence
Come, gentle muse, suspend the joyful lay,
And o'er the earth let's take a wide survey;
Soft touch the lyre in slow and mournful strains,
And sing of scenes where death and sorrow reign;
See dire commotion seize the nations all,
While blood and war the stoutest hearts appal,
Kingdom on kingdom in confusion hurl'd,
System on system wreck'd throughout the world,
Sect against sect in bloody strife engage,
Man against man in single combat rage,
While widows mourn the loss of husbands slain,
And virgins for their bridegrooms weep in vain,
While pining famine wastes their strength by day,
And pestilence oft seizes on its prey;
Earthquakes in turn in bellowing fury roar,
And ocean's waves roll frightful to the shore.
See through the heavens the sun in sackcloth mourn,
The moon to blood in frowning anger turns,
The stars affrighted from their spheres are hurled,
System on system wreck'd and world on world,
Earth's whole foundation to the centre nods.
And nature trembling feels the power of God.
While Michael sounds the trumpet loud and long,
See from their graves the saints unnumbered throng;
See through the air the ocean and the earth,
Their dust reviving bursting into birth,
See bone to bone in perfect order fly,
While sinews, flesh, and skin their place supply;
And every hair all number'd in its place,
Immortal beauty does their temples grace.