O who that has search'd in the records of old,
And read the last scenes of distress;
Four and twenty were left who with Mormon beheld,
While their nation lay mouldering to dust.

The Nephites destroyed, the Lamanites dwelt,
For ages in sorrow unknown;
Generations have pass'd, till the Gentiles at last,
Have divided their lands as their own.

O, who that has seen o'er the wide spreading plain
The Lamanites wander forlorn,
While the Gentiles in pride and oppression divide
The land they could once call their own.

And who that believes does not long for the hour
When sin and oppression shall cease,
And truth, like the rainbow, display through the shower,
That bright written promise of peace.

O, thou afflicted and sorrowful race,
The days of thy sorrow shall end;
The Lord has pronounced you a remnant of His,
Descended from Abram his friend.

Thy stones with fair colors most glorious shall stand,
And sapphires all shining around;
Thy windows of agates in this glorious land,
And thy gates with carbuncles abound.

With songs of rejoicing to Zion return,
And sorrow and sighing shall flee;
The powers of heaven among you come down.
And Christ in the centre will be.

And then all the watchmen shall see eye to eye,
When the Lord shall bring Zion again;
The wolf and the kid down together shall lie,
And the lion shall dwell with the lamb.

The earth shall be filled with knowledge of God,
And nothing shall hurt or destroy,
And these are the tidings we have to proclaim,—
Glad tidings abounding with joy.