Take Your Harps

Your harps, ye tearful saints, Down from the willows take; No more by Bab' lon' s streams sit down And weep for Zion' s sake.

The spirit of our God Hath tuned the harp divine, And now, in grandest harmony, Its melodies combine. \line

Take down the harp divine, Sweep o' er its many strings; They call to Zion, Rise and shine! Thy God salvation brings.

No more an exile roam; Accept thy liberty; God calls his faithful people home, Sets error' s captives free.

Let such go up and build The temple of our God, And let their souls, with courage filled, Publish the news abroad.