Come to Our Poor Nature’s Night

Come to our poor na­ture’s night

With Thy bless­èd in­ward light

Holy Ghost

the In­fi­nite

Comforter di­vine.

We are sin­ful—cleanse us

Lord;

Sick and faint—Thy strength af­ford;

Lost—un­til by Thee re­stored

Comforter di­vine.

Orphans are our souls

and poor;

Give us from Thy heav­en­ly store

Faith

love

joy for ev­er­more

Comforter di­vine.

Like the dew Thy peace dis­till;

Guide

sub­due our way­ward will

Things of Christ un­fold­ing still

Comforter di­vine.

Gentle

aw­ful

ho­ly Guest

Make Thy tem­ple in each breast;

There Thy pre­sence be con­fessed

Comforter di­vine.

With us

for us

in­ter­cede

And

with voice­less groan­ings

plead

Our un­ut­ter­able need

Comforter di­vine.

In us Ab­ba

Fa­ther! cry

Earnest of the bliss on high

Seal of im­mor­tal­ity

Comforter di­vine.

Search for us the depths of God;

Upwards by the star­ry road

Bear us to Thy high ab­ode

Comforter di­vine.