Your enemies come across the hills
Resplendent in all of their power,
But they will not come near to you;
They will balk at this fortress.
The battle is not over, yet
The heralds run across the hills,
The message of the victory bright
In their hearts to tell you.
See the strong man fall down, slain,
His army fleeing, frightened from
The stronghold of our mighty King.
Hear the trumpets sounding.
Bow, O people;
Wash yourselves; rise up clean
From the waters of this mercy;
Walk into the new day, hearts
Ripe with the fruit of this freedom.