Your eyes will see the King in His beauty; They will see the land that is very far off. Your heart will meditate on terror: “Where is the scribe? Where is he who weighs? Where is he who counts the towers?” You will not see a fierce people, A people of obscure speech, beyond perception, Of a stammering tongue that you cannot understand. Look upon Zion, the city of our appointed feasts; Your eyes will see Jerusalem, a quiet home, A tabernacle that will not be taken down; Not one of its stakes will ever be removed, Nor will any of its cords be broken. But there the majestic LORD will be for us A place of broad rivers and streams, In which no galley with oars will sail, Nor majestic ships pass by (For the LORD is our Judge, The LORD is our Lawgiver, The LORD is our King; He will save us); Your tackle is loosed, They could not strengthen their mast, They could not spread the sail. Then the prey of great plunder is divided; The lame take the prey. And the inhabitant will not say, “I am sick”; The people who dwell in it will be forgiven their iniquity.
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