But from exile escaping, from bondage redeemed,
To Jerusalem homing, to Zion returning,
Our spirits shall ever be free and at rest.
Second Chorus of Wanderers
Our drink must be drawn from distant waters;
Evil their taste, bitter in the mouth.
We must shelter from the sun beneath strange trees,
Their leaves breathing fear as they rustle in the wind.
But we shall win solace from the starry skies;
Dreams of home will comfort our nights;