Bring Them In
For how long will I stand?
When I ought to sit on the throne
Till my enemies become my footstool
And see the fruit of my pains
‘Stead of gain, pain stays
For many stay yet at boundaries beyond
Far from the cause for which I died
My blood that cleans still waits
When will they come in and stay?
Ishmael has stayed enough in stain
Israel, rise and raise the horn
Ishmael waits for the salvation
Bring them in and end the pains,
Pain of your fruitfulness
Pain of enmity among brothers
Pain of Ishmael still in dark till hark