IV.
Come, sad Captives, leave your moanes, And your groanes 20 Under Syons ruines bury; Tune your harps, and sing us layes In the praise Of your God, and let's be merry.
Come, sad Captives, leave your moanes, And your groanes 20 Under Syons ruines bury; Tune your harps, and sing us layes In the praise Of your God, and let's be merry.