291. 7s. M. Anonymous. The Fulness of the Gentiles.

1 |Give us room, that we may dwell,|
Zion's children cry aloud:
See their numbers how they swell!
How they gather like a cloud!

2 O, how bright the morning seems!
Brighter from so dark a night:
Zion is like one that dreams,
Filled with wonder and delight.

3 Lo! thy sun goes down no more:
God himself will be thy light:
All that caused thee grief before
Buried lies in endless night.

4 Zion, now arise and shine;
Lo! thy light from heaven is come
These that crowd from far are thine;
Give thy sons and daughters room.