Right thro' the Gates of Wrath¹

    I urge my way；

    Sweet Mercy leads me on

    With soft repentant² moan：

    I see the break of day.

    The war of swords and spears，

    Melted by dewy tears，

    Exhales³ on high；

    The Sun is freed from fears，

    And with soft grateful tears

    Ascends⁴ the sky.