They have gone—the glad heralds of mercy—have gone,
To the land where the martyrs once bled;
Where the beasts and false prophet have since trodden down,
The fair fabric that Zion had reared.
Where the churches once planted, and watered, and blessed,
With the dews of the Spirit distilled,
Have been smitten, despoiled! and by heathen possessed,
And the places that knew them defiled.