The angels in their glory dawned upon
Thy messengers and seers!
Oh, who will give me wings
That I may fly away,
And there, at rest from all my wanderings,
The ruins of my heart among thy ruins lay?
I’ll bend my face unto thy soil, and hold
Thy stones as special gold.
And when in Hebron I have stood beside
My fathers’ tombs, then will I pass in turn