The howling wilds are still; Thy praises fill the lonely waste, And breathe from every hill. The hidden fountains, at Thy call, Their sacred stores unlock; Loud in the desert sudden streams Burst living from the rock. The incense of the Spring ascends Upon the morning gale; Red o'er the hill the roses bloom, The lilies in the vale. The kingdom of Messiah come, Appointed times disclose; And fairer in Emmanuel's land The new Creation glows: -- Renew'd, the earth a robe of light, A robe of beauty wears; And in new Heavens a brighter Sun Leads on the promised years. |