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And for his sake from pride and scorn Our spirits shall be free,Till through our souls shall sound the words He did it unto me.
DELIVERANCE.
Rise up! rise up! Oh Israel, Let a spotless lamb be slain;The angel of death will o'er you bend And rend your galling chain.
Sprinkle its blood upon the posts And lintels of your door;When the angel sees the crimson spots Unharmed he will pass you o'er.
Gather your flocks and herds to-night, Your children by your side:A leader from Arabia comes To be your friend and guide.
With girded loins and sandled feet Await the hour of dread,When Mizraim shall wildly mourn Her first-born and her dead.
The sons of Abraham no more Shall crouch 'neath Pharoah's hand,Trembling with agony and dread, He'll thrust you from the land.
