Henry Francis Lyte
O That the Lord's Salvation
O that the Lord’s salvation
Were out of Zion come,
To heal His ancient nation,
To lead His outcasts home!
How long the holy city
Shall heathen feet profane?
Return, O Lord, in pity;
Rebuild her walls again.
Let fall Thy rod of terror;
Thy saving grace impart;
Roll back the veil of error;
Release the fettered heart.
Let Israel, home returning,
Their lost Messiah see;
Give oil of joy for mourning,
And bind Thy church to Thee.
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