STILL o'er Earth's sky the clouds of anger roll,
And God's revenge hangs heavy on her soul.
Yet shall she rise - though first by God chastised -
In glory and in beauty then baptized.

Yea, Earth, thou shalt arise; thy Father's aid
Shall heal the wound His chastening hand hath made ;
Shall judge the proud oppressor's ruthless sway
And burst his bonds, and cast his cords away.

Then on thy soil shall deathless verdure spring ;
Break forth, ye mountains, and ye valleys, sing !
No more your thirsty rocks shall frown forlorn,
The unbeliever's jest, the heathen's scorn ;

The sultry sands shall tenfold harvests yield,
And a new Eden deck the thorny field.
E'en now we see, wide-waving o'er the land,
The mighty angel lifts his golden wand,

Courts the bright vision of descending power,
Tells every gate, and measures every tower ;
And chides the tardy seals that yet detain
Thy Lion, Judah, from His destined reign !