Comfort, comfort ye my people
- psalm 42
- Johann G. Olearius, 1611-1684; Catherin Winkworth, 1827-1878
- Claude Goudimel, 1514-1572
1 Comfort, comfort ye my people, speak ye peace, thus saith our God; comfort those who sit in darkness mourning 'neath their sorrow's load. Speak ye to Jerusalem of the peace that waits for them; tell her that her sins I cover, and her warfare now is over.
2 Hark, the voice of one that crieth in the desert far and near, calling us to new repentance since the kingdom now is here. Oh, that warning cry obey! Now prepare for God a way; let the valleys rise to meet him, and the hills bow down to greet him.
3 Make ye straight what long was crooked, make the rougher places plain: let your hearts be true and humble, as befits his holy reign. For the glory of the Lord Now o'er earth is shed abroad; and all flesh shall see the token that the word is never broken.