The people are but grass
Like wood all dead and dried
A giant lifeless corpse
That sprawls where it had died
For when God's voice descended
And thundered here and there
The people did not budge
The people did not stir
They did not rise like lions
Nor did they stand up tall
Not one man from a city
Did rally to the call
Nor did their hearts exult
With joy and with emotion
Rejoice from pole to pole
From ocean unto ocean
When true sons stepped forth willing
Responding to the word
From far away arriving
To hearken to the Lord
No greeting hand was lifted
No welcome by the nation
To those who came to serve it
With faith and dedication
As round their golden idols
The foolish people roared
God's thunder was not heard
Its sound went by ignored
In evil scheming hearts
Of sinful petty folk
The Lord's word was despised
Was turned into a joke.
The people are corrupt
A mean and spiteful lot
From head to toe all filled
With malice and with rot
For they did not bring forth
In times of pain and woe
A man of lofty deeds
In whom a spark would glow
Who with his heart aflame
The minds of men would sway
And fire from his eyes
Would light a nation's way
Who deeply loves his folk
And God's name he would cherish
Past wealth and over gold
False idols doomed to perish
Who favors no one man
Is truthful and is brave
And has a deep contempt
For living as a slave
Compassion is his flag
And pity for his folk
Who live a woeful life
And bear a cruel yoke
All this would stir the heart
Like storms upon the ocean
All this would light a flame
Would kindle great emotion
All this would like the thunder
Proclaim by day and night
"Rise up and do great deeds
For God helps our fight!"
The people have no goal
They earn contempt and shame
Their deeds have no foundation
Their actions have no aim
An endless wandering life
An exile hard to bear
Have sapped away their wisdom
Have filled them with despair
They only know the whip
Their bodies live in pain
Their souls--can they still feel
The hatred and disdain?
Can they that live in gloom
In exile's vale of tears
Live not just for the day
But plan for future years?
To hasten days of light
And make their liberation
The heritage they hand
A future generation?
They only awaken
When roused by the stick
They only rise up when
They feel the foe's kick
Dry moss, wilted leaf--
Can it ever revive?
A flower cut off--
Can the dew make it thrive?
When the trumpets resound
And the bold banner flies
Will the dead body wake?
Will the dead body rise?
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