When shall this time of travail cease
Which we, with woe sustain?
When shall the days of rest and peace,
Return to us again?
When shall the mind be movèd right
To leave this lusting life?
When shall our motions and delight
Be free from wrath and strife?
When shall the time of woful tears
Be movèd unto mirth?
When shall the aged, with grey hairs,
Rejoice at children's birth?
When shall Jerusalem rejoice
In Him, that is their King?
And Sion's hill, with cheerful voice,
Sing psalms with triumphing?
When shall the walls erected be,
That foes, with fury, 'fray?
When shall that perfect Olive Tree,
Give odour like the Bay?
When shall the Vineyard be restored,
That beastly boars devour?
When shall the people, late abhorred,
Receive a quiet hour?
When shall the SPIRIT more fervent be,
In us that want good will?
When shall Thy mercies set us free
From wickedness and ill?
When shall the serpents, that surmise
To poison Thine Elect,
Be bound to better exercise,
Or utterly reject?
When shall the blood revengèd be,
Which on the earth is shed?
When shall sin and iniquity
Be cast into the bed?