Hark! don’t you hear the turtle dove,
The token of redeeming love?
From hill to hill we hear the sound,
The neighb’ring valleys echo round.
O Zion hear the turtle dove,
The token of your Savior’s love!
She comes the desert land to cheer,
And welcome in the jubil year.

The winter’s past, the rain is o’er,
We feel the chilling winds no more;
The spring is come; how sweet the view,
All things appear divinely new.
These are the days that were foretold,
In ancient times, by prophets old;
They long’d to see this glorious light,
But all have died without the sight.

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