Classic Poem

When darkly around her the shadowy cloud
Betokens her glory departed;
The daughter of Zion by mournfulness bow'd,
Alone in her sorrow she weepeth aloud,
With desolate grief broken-hearted!
Then where should the voice of her mourning come?
Upward! upward! Heavenward!
There is the daughter of Zion's home!

But when through the day of her darkness and gloom,
The Sun of her bosom's devotion
Comes bright as a bridegroom, rejoicing in bloom,
And his soft-falling accents, like hope from the tomb,
Awaken each heart-felt emotion!
Then where should the voice of her gladness come!
Upward! upward! Heavenward!
There is the daughter of Zion's home!

Thus bounding with gladness or shrouded in care,
How holy a comfort is given!
While Hope, the sweet seraph, still whispers her prayer,
And the day-star, that beams on the night of despair,
Points the daughter of Zion to Heaven!
Then where should the voice of her rapture come?
Upward! upward! Heavenward!
There is the daughter of Zion's home!