When God had our deliv'rance wrought,
And Sion out of bondage brought,
It seem'd to us a dream, who were
Distracted between hope and fear.
Then sacred joy fill'd every breast,
In flowing mirth and songs express'd.
The wond'ring heathen oft would say,
How good! how great a God have they!
Great things for us the Lord hath wrought,
Above the reach of human thought.
We therefore will His praises sing.
The remnant, Lord, from bondage bring,
As rivers through the parched sand,
Or show'rs which fall on thirsty land.
Who sow in tears shall reap in joy.
We, after long captivity,
Unto our native soil retire,
The scope and crown of our desire.