Come, Thou Holy Paraclete

Verse 1

Come, Thou holy Paraclete, And from Thy celestial seat Send Thy light and brilliancy: Father of the poor, draw near; Giver of all gifts, be here; Come, the soul’s true radiancy.

Verse 2

Come, of comforters the best, Of the soul the sweetest guest, Come in toil refreshingly: Thou in labor rest most sweet, Thou art shadow from the heat, Comfort in adversity.

Verse 3

O Thou Light, most pure and blest, Shine within the inmost breast Of Thy faithful company. Where Thou art not, man hath naught; Every holy deed and thought Comes from Thy divinity.

Verse 4

What is soilèd, make Thou pure; What is wounded, work its cure; What is parchèd, fructify; What is rigid, gently bend; What is frozen, warmly tend; Strengthen what goes erringly.

Verse 5

Fill Thy faithful, who confide In Thy power to guard and guide, With Thy sevenfold mystery. Here Thy grace and virtue send: Grant salvation to the end, And in Heav’n felicity.