For the Times and Seasons Zion in Captivity. A Lamentation by P. P. Pratt, While Chained in Prison

Torn from our friends, and captive led How long, O Lord! will thou forsake

'Mid armed legions, bound in chains; The saints, who tremble at thy word?

That peace for which our Fathers bled, Awake! O arm of God, awake!

'Tis gone, and dire confusion reigns. And teach the nations thou art God.

Zion our peaceful happy home, Descend with all thy holy throng,

Where of't we've joined in praise and prayer, The year of thy redeemed bring near,

A desolation has become, Haste, haste, the day of vengeance on,

And grief and sorrow lingers there. Bid Zion's children dry their tears.

Her virgins sigh, her widows mourn. Deliver Lord, thy captive saints,

Her children for their parents weep; And comfort those who long have mourn'd;

In chains her priests and prophets groan, Bid Zion cease her dire complaints,

While some in death's cold arms do sleep. And all reaction cease to mourn.

Exultingly, her savage foes,

Now ravage, steal, and plunder, where

A virgins tears, and widow's woes

Become their song of triumph there.