COME, let us to the Lord our God With contrite hearts return; Our God is gracious, nor will leave The desolate to mourn.
His voice commands the tempest forth, And stills the stormy wave; And, though His arm be strong to smite ’Tis also strong to save.
Long has the night of sorrow reigned; The dawn shall bring us light; God shall appear, and we shall rise With gladness in His sight.
Our hearts, if God we seek to know, Shall know Him, and rejoice; His coming like the morn shall be, Like morning songs His voice.
As dew upon the tender herb, Diffusing fragrance round; As showers that usher in the spring, And cheer the thirsty ground . . .
So shall His presence bless our souls, And shed a joyful light; That hallowed morn shall chase away The sorrows of the night.
John Morison, 1749-98