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151

tr., John Brownlie

8.8.8.8

152

I

Eternal Spirit, Lord of grace,

Descend, and in each waiting heart,

Find a preparéd resting-place,

And all Thy sevenfold gifts impart.

II

Our sins reveal, our awful blame,

Shew in the light Thy truth supplies;

And as we feel our guilty shame,

Lead to the Cross where Jesus dies.

III

To needy souls give rich supplies;

Let comfort calm the troubled mind;

Give seeing to the sightless eyes;

Heal all the sorrows of mankind.

IV

Where doubts becloud, or fears distress,

Thy peace her healing balm apply;

Thy light, the night clouds that oppress,

Chase from our dark and threatening sky.

V

Our languid souls that lifeless live,

Revive anew, O Heavenly Breath;

The Holy inspiration give,

That saves the drooping soul from death.

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