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1 Comfort my people O ye prophetes comfort my people, saith your God, 2 Comfort Hierusalem at the heart, and tell her, that her trauayle is at an ende, that her offence is pardoned, that she hath receaued at the Lordes hande sufficient correction for all her sinnes. 3 A voyce crieth in wildernesse: Prepare the way of the Lorde, make strayght the path of our God in the desert. 4 All valleys shalbe exalted, and euery mountayne and hyll layde lowe: what so is croked shalbe made strayght, and the rough shalbe made playne. 5 For the glorie of the Lorde shall appeare, for all fleshe shall at once see that the mouth of the Lorde hath spoken it. Isaiah 40:1-5, Bishops' Bible of 1568. Public domain.
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