Our souls will find continual refreshment
In the thought of Jerusalem.
Third Chorus of Wanderers
We shall journey by unfamiliar roads;
The wind will carry us afar, through many lands;
Weary shall we be, footsore and weary,
As the nations drive us from home after home.
Nowhere at all will they suffer us to take root,
Perpetual our pilgrimage through the changing world.
Yet happy shall we be, eternally vanquished;