Verse 1
Yet first the stricken earth shall mourn,
And deepest night obscure the skies,
I will not from my purpose turn,
Resolv’d my rebels to chastise.

Verse 2
My rebels shall with panic dread,
Before the furious horsemen fly,
Climb the steep rocks with desperate speed,
Or panting in the thickets lie.

Verse 3
The cities shall be all forsook:
Ah! Sion, whither wilt thou go,
To whom for help or rescue look,
When ravag’d by th’ invading foe?

Verse 4
Adorn thee with thy richest dress,
With gems and gold their heart[1] to gain,
Colour with nicest art thy face,
And strive to please, but all in vain.

Verse 5
Thy beauty cannot take their eyes,
Or turn thy lovers’ wrath away;
Thy lovers shall thy charms despise,
And seek, whom they abhor, to slay.

Verse 6
For I have heard a voice of woes,
And shrill complaints that pierce the skies,
Loud as a woman in her throes,
Sion’s afflicted daughter cries.

Verse 7
Weary to death, she spreads her hands,
And wails her loss, and speaks her pain,
“Ah! Woe is me, the ruffian bands
Have all my hapless children slain!”

[1] Wesley changed “heart” to “hearts” in second edition.