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99

John Brownlie

6,6,6,6,8,8

To God the Holy Ghost

Let homage due be paid,

Who, when we sorrow most,

Comes with His heavenly aid,

And speaks the word alluring, kind,

That fills with peace the anxious mind.

Then winds their raging cease,

And billows sink to rest;

Our souls repose in peace,

As child on mother's breast;

Blest Spirit! there is naught to fear,

When Thou, our Comforter, art near.

Come then, Thou gracious Guest,

Our earnest prayers ascend;

Prepare Thyself a rest,

Abide our constant Friend;

Fulfil the promise Jesus made,

When sorrow on His soul was laid.

100

Oh, bid our darkness flee,

And with Thy light come in;

Our souls from trouble free,

And from the thrall of sin:

Blest Spirit! condescending, come,

And make our souls Thy chosen home.

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