Warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for the Lord!
March, onward march, ye valiant tribes, the hour has come, the hour has
come! All the promises of ages, all the signs of sacred sages, meet in
this ravishing hour. Where is now the oppressor's chariot, where your
tyrant's purple robe? The horse and the rider are both overthrown, the
horse and the rider are both overthrown!
Rise, Rachel, from thy wilderness, arise, and weep no more. No more thy
lonely palm-tree's shade need shroud thy secret sorrowing. The Lord
hath heard the widow's sigh, the Lord hath stilled the widow's tear. Be
comforted, be comforted, thy children live again!
Yes! yes! upon the bounding plain fleet Asriel glances like a star, and
stout Scherirah shakes his spear by stern Jabaster's scimitar. And He is
there, the chosen one, hymned by prophetic harps, whose life is like the
morning dew on Zion's holy hill: the chosen one, the chosen one, that
leads his race to victory; warriors of Judah! holy men that battle for
the Lord!
They come, they come, they come!
The ramparts of the city were crowded with the inhabitants, the river
sparkled with ten thousand boats, the bazaars were shut, the streets
lined with the populace, and the terrace of every house covered with
spectators.
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