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.
Guide, subdue our wayward will, Like the dew Thy peace distil; Things of Christ unfolding still, 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 heavenly road Bear us to Thy high abode, Comforter divine.
George Rawson, 1807-89