The Fortieth Chapter of Isaiah, Part 1

Comfort, ye ministers of grace,
Comfort the people of your Lord;
O! lift ye up the fallen race,
And cheer them by the gospel-word.

Go, into every nation, go!
Speak to their trembling hearts, and cry,
Glad tidings unto all we show;
Jerusalem, thy God is nigh.

Accomplish'd is thy legal war,
The mantle o'er thy sins is spread;
Thy God the punishment hath bore,
Thy God the debt hath more than paid.

Punish'd thou art, for He hath died,
(The merit of His death is thine,)
Absolved, and freely justified,
And clothed in righteousness Divine.

Hark! in the wilderness a cry,
A voice that loudly calls, Prepare!
Prepare your hearts, for God is nigh,
And means to make His entrance there.

The Lord your God shall quickly come:
Sinners, repent, the call obey;
Open your hearts to make Him room;
Ye desert souls, prepare His way.

The Lord shall clear His way through all;
Whate'er obstructs, obstructs in vain:
The vale shall rise, the mountain fall,
Crooked be straight, and rugged plain.

Nature, perverse and rough, shall yield,
The' aspiring droop, the abject dare;
Alike by sovereign grace compell'd,
Despair shall hope, and pride despair.

When all, into subjection brought,
Level shall lie, and humbly low,
Who captivated every thought,
His glory then the Lord shall show.

The glory of the Lord display'd
Together all mankind shall view;
And what His mouth in truth hath said,
His own almighty hand shall do.