Thy pure beaming radiance give. Come Father of the poor, Come with treasures which endure, Come Thou Light of all that live. Thou of all Consolers best, Visiting the troubled breast, Dost refreshing gifts bestow. Thou in toil art Comfort sweet, Pleasant coolness in the heat, Solace in the midst of woe. Light immortal Light divine, Visit Thou these hearts of thine, And our inmost being fill. If you take your grace away, Nothing pure in us will stay, All our good is turned to ill. Heal our wounds our strength renew, On our dryness pour thy dew, Wash the stains of guilt away. Bend the stubborn
...more
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
