There's a voice in the wilderness crying, A call from the ways untrod: Prepare in the desert a highway, A highway for our God! The valleys shall be exalted, The lofty hills brought low; Make straight all the crooked places, Where the Lord our God may go! O Zion, that bringest good tidings, Get thee up to the heights and sing! Proclaim to a desolate people The coming of their King. Like the flowers of the field they perish, The works of men decay, The power and pomp of nations Shall pass like a dream away. But the word of our God endureth, The arm of the Lord is strong; He stands in the midst of nations, And He will right the wrong. He shall feed His flock like a shepherd, And fold the lambs to His breast; In pastures of peace He'll lead them, And give to the weary rest. There's a voice in the wilderness crying, A call from the ways untrod: Prepare in the desert a highway, A highway for our God! The valleys shall be exalted, The lofty hills brought low; Make straight all the crooked places, Where the Lord our God may go!