Johann Olearius, 1671; German text
Comfort, comfort, ye My people,|
Speak ye peace, thus saith our God;
Comfort those who sit in darkness,
Mourning 'neath their sorrows' load.
Speak ye to Jerusalem
Of the peace that waits for them;
Tell her that her sins I cover
And her warfare now is over.
2. Yea, her sins our God will pardon,
3. Hark, the Herald's voice is crying|
In the desert far and near,
Bidding all men to repentance
Since the Kingdom now is here.
Oh, that warning cry obey!
Now prepare for God a way;
Let the valleys rise to meet Him
And the hills bow down to greet Him.
4. Make ye straight what long was crooked,
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