Blest Com­fort­er di­vine,
Whose rays of heav’n­ly love
Amid our gloom and dark­ness shine,
And guide our souls ab­ove;

Thou, who with still small voice
Dost stop the sin­ner’s way,
And bid the mourn­ing saint re­joice,
Though earth­ly joys de­cay;

Thou, whose in­spir­ing breath
Can make the cloud of care,
And e’en the gloomy vale of death,
A smile of glo­ry wear;

Thou, who dost fill the heart
With love to all our race;
Blest Com­fort­er, to us im­part
The bless­ings of Thy grace.