Recompense

I shall be a fire without

And Glory all within

My City rescued with a shout

And purged of all her sin.

The nations trod upon her back

Will harm my love no more

Refining fires in their attack

But now I will restore.

And great will be the gathering

The dispersed flock draws nigh

Around me then the ransomed sing

The apple of my eye.

 

Zechariah 2

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