Come To Our Poor Natures 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 distil;

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.