Come, let us to the Lord our God
with contrite hearts return;
Our God is gracious, nor will leave
the desolate to mourn.

His voice commands the tempest forth,
and stills the stormy wave;
And though his arm be strong to smite,
’tis also strong to save.

Long hath the night of sorrow reigned;
the dawn shall bring us light:
God shall appear, and we shall rise
with gladness in his sight.

Our hearts, if God we seek to know,
shall know him, and rejoice;
His coming like the morn shall be,
like morning songs his voice.

As dew upon the tender herb,
diffusing fragrance round;
As show’rs that usher in the spring,
and cheer the thirsty ground:

So shall his presence bless our souls,
and shed a joyful light;
That hallowed morn shall chase away
the sorrows of the night.