Though I am poor and sorrowful,
Hear Thou, O God, my cry;
Let Thy salvation come to me
And lift me up on high.
Then will I praise my God with song,
To Him my thanks shall rise.
And this shall please Jehovah more
Than offered sacrifice.
The meek shall see it and rejoice,
Ye saints, no more be sad;
For lo, Jehovah hears the poor
And makes His pris'ners glad.
Let heav'n and earth and seas rejoice,
Let all therein give praise,
For Zion God will surely save,
Her broken walls will raise.
In Zion they that love His name
Shall dwell from age to age;
Yea, there shall be their lasting rest,
Their children's heritage.
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