C OMFORT ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the Lord's hand double for all her sins. The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. The voice said, Cry. And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field: the grass withereth, the flower fadeth: because the spirit of the Lord bloweth upon it: surely the people is : grass. The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever. O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain; O Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength; lift it up, be not afraid; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God! Behold, the Lord God will come with strong hand, and his arm shall rule for him: behold, his reward is with him, and his work before him. He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young. Isaiah S HADOW by shadow, stripped for fight, The lean black cruisers search the sea. Nightlong their level shafts of light Revolve and find no enemy. Only they know each leaping wave May hide the lightning and their grave! And in the land they guard so well And captains that we thought were dead. And dreamers that we thought were dumb, And voices that we thought were fled, Arise and call us and we come : And "Search in thine own soul," they cry, "For there, too, lurks thine enemy." Search for the foe in thine own soul: The sloth, the intellectual pride, The trivial jest that veils the goal For which our fathers lived and died; The lawless dreams, the cynic art, That rend thy nobler self apart! Not far, not far into the night These level swords of light can pierce; Yet for her faith does England fight Her faith in this our universe, Believing Truth and Justice draw From founts of everlasting law. Therefore a Power above the State The unconquerable Power, returns, The fire, the fire that made her great, Once more upon her altar burns. |