An angel of glory from heaven descended,
While his power and glory enlightened the earth;
With a voice strong and mighty, his cry was extended,
Babylon is fallen and hushed in her mirth;

The dwelling of devils and every foul spirit,
The cage of uncleanness and of hateful birds.
All nations had tasted her wine and were drunken,
But now she is fallen the angel brings word;

Her merchants were great men, and through her abundance,
They long had wax'd rich in her traffic though vain,
But now she is fallen,—is fallen,—is fallen,
Her riches and glory have ended in pain;

Her plagues in one day—death, mourning and famine,
And flame shall devour her and burn her withal;
The kings of the earth at the smoke of her burning,
Shall stand afar off and lament her sad fall.

Her merchants shall weep for their traffic is ended,
Their gold and their silver, their stones and their pearls,
Their linen and purple, their silk and their scarlet,
And all things that wealth could procure in the world.

Their vessels of ivory and brass, iron and marble,
And cinnamon and odours, frankincense and wine.
And oil and fine flour, wheat, beasts, sheep and horses,
And chariots and slaves, and the souls of mankind.

Rejoice, O thou Heaven! ye holy apostles,
And prophets for God hath avenged you withal,
For like a great millstone doth sink in the ocean,
E'en so on a sudden shall Babylon fall;

The voice of musicians, the harp and the pipers,
And trumpets and organs no longer shall sound,
No craftsmen, mechanic or workman whatever,
Within thy dominion shall ever be found;

No more shall the sound of a millstone be heard,
The light of a candle no more in thee shine,
The voice of the bridegroom and bride ever silent,
Darkness and sorrow, and death shall be thine.