To these long desolations thy feet lift, do not tarry; For all the ills thy foes have done within thy sanctuary.
O God, the heathen enter'd have thine heritage; by them Defiled is thy house: on heaps they laid Jerusalem.
Rise for our help, and us redeem, ev'n for thy mercies' sake.
Rise, Lord, cast us not ever off; awake, why dost thou sleep?