The Fifty-First Chapter of Isaiah, Part 2

Arm of the Lord, awake, awake!
Thine own immortal strength put on,
With terror clothed the nations shake,
And cast Thy foes in fury down.

As in the ancient days appear,
The sacred annals speak Thy fame,
Be now omnipotently near,
Through endless ages still the same.

Thy tenfold vengeance knew to quell,
And humble haughty RahaVs pride,
Groan'd her pale sons Thy stroke to feel,
The first-born victims groan'd, and died.

The wounded dragon raged in vain,
While bold Thine utmost plague to brave,
Madly he dared the parted main,
And sunk beneath the' o'erwhelming wave.

He sunk; while Israel's chosen race
Triumphant urge their wondrous way;
Divinely led, the favourites pass
The' unwatery deep, and emptied sea.

At distance heap'd on either hand,
Yielding a strange unbeaten road,
In crystal walls the waters stand,
And own the arm of Israel's God.

That arm which is not shorten'd now,
Which wants not now the power to save;
Still present with Thy people Thou
Bear'st them through life's disparted wave.

By earth and hell pursued in vain,
To Thee the ransom'd seed shall come;
Shouting, their heavenly Sion gain,
And pass through death triumphant home.

The pain of life shall there be o'er,
The anguish, and distracting care,
There sighing grief shall weep no more,
And sin shall never enter there.

Where pure essential joy is found,
The Lord's redeem'd their heads shall raise,
With everlasting gladness crown'd,
And fill'd with love, and lost in praise..