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The Book of Praise.
Yet, 'mid the wild and wintry gale, When death rides darkly o'er the sea,
And strength and earthly daring fail, Our prayers, Redeemer ! rest on Thee.
Come, Jesus, come ! and as of yore The prophet went to clear Thy way,
A harbinger Thy feet before, A dawning to Thy brighter day ;
So now may grace, with heavenly shower, Our stony hearts for truth prepare ;
Sow in our souls the seed of power,
Then come, and reap Thy harvest there !
Bishop Reginald Heber. 181
O Spirit of the living God !
In all Thy plenitude of grace, Where'er the foot of man hath trod,
Descend on our apostate race !
Give tongues of fire and hearts of love To preach the reconciling word ;
Give power and unction from above, Whene'er the joyful sound is heard.
Be darkness, at Thy coming, Light;
Confusion, order in Thy path ; Souls without strength inspire with might;
Bid mercy triumph over wrath.
O Spirit of the Lord ! prepare;
All the round earth her God to meet: Breathe Thou abroad like morning air.
Till hearts of stone begin to beat.