If thou dost turn from the sabbath thy foot, Doing thine own pleasure on My holy day, And hast cried to the sabbath, 'A delight,' To the holy of Jehovah, 'Honoured,' And hast honoured it, without doing thine own ways, Without finding thine own pleasure, And speaking a word.

Lo, I am doing a new thing, now it springeth up, Do ye not know it? Yea, I put in a wilderness a way, In a desolate place -- floods.

In Thy doing fearful things -- we expect not, Thou didst come down, From Thy presence did mountains flow.