Comfort, comfort ye my people

Comfort, comfort ye My people,

Speak ye peace, thus saith our God;

Comfort those who sit in darkness,

Wounded sore by sorrows' rod.

Bid Jerusalem be glad,

Her whose heart so long was sad;

Tell her that the strife is ended,

All My peace to her extended.

All her sins I now will pardon,

Blotting out each dark misdeed;

That which well deserved My anger

I no more will see or heed.

She hath suffered bitter grief;

Now I send her sweet relief,

Changing all her gloomy sadness

Into brightest joy and gladness.

Hark, the herald's voice is crying

In the desert far and near,

Saying to us all, Repent ye,

Since the kingdom now is here;

O that warning cry obey,

For your Lord prepare the way;

Let the valleys rise to meet Him

And the hills bow down to greet Him.

Make ye straight what long was crooked,

Make the rougher places plain;

Let your hearts be true and humble,

As befits His holy reign.

For the glory of our God

Now o'er earth is shed abroad,

And all flesh shall see the token

That His Word is never broken.