1 O Thou, to whom all prayer must rise,
Wilt Thou now lend Thy gracious ear?
While feeble mortals raise their cries,
WiltThou, the God ofIsrael, hear?
2 Thy servants would deny Thee rest
Till Zion's mould'ring walls Thou raise,
Till Thine own power shall stand confessed,
And make Jerusalem a praise.
3 With gentle beams on Zion shine,
Raise up her kings, restore her priests,
And, by Thine energy divine,
Let sacred love o'er flow their feasts.
4 Then shall each age and rank agree
United shouts ofjoy to raise:
And Zion, made a praise by Thee,
To Thee shall render back the praise.