Arise! Arise, With Joy Survey

Arise! arise, with joy survey

The glory of the latter day;

Already is the dawn begun,

Which marks at hand a rising sun,

Which marks at hand a rising sun.

"Behold the way!" ye heralds, cry;

Spare not, but lift your voices high;

Convey the sound from pole to pole,

"Glad tidings" to the captive soul,

"Glad tidings" to the captive soul.

"Behold the way!" to Zion's hill:

Where Israel's God delights to dwell!

He fixes there His lofty throne,

And calls the sacred place His own,

And calls the sacred place His own.

The north gives up-the south no more

Keeps back her consecrated store;

From east to west the message runs,

And either India yields her sons,

And either India yields her sons.