A HYMN FOR THE SUNDAY WITHIN THE OCTAVE OF ASCENSION
Come, Holy Ghost, Creator
blest,
Vouchsafe within our souls to
rest;
Come with thy grace and
heavenly aid,
And fill the hearts which thou
hast made.
To thee, the Paraclete, we
cry,
To thee, the Gift of God most
high,
The Fount of life, the Fire of
love,
The soul's Anointing from
above.
The sevenfold gifts of grace
are thine,
O Finger of the Hand Divine;
True Promise of the Father
thou,
Who dost the tongue with
speech endow.
Thy light to every sense
impart,
And shed thy love in every
heart;
Thine own unfailing might
supply
To strengthen our infirmity.
Drive far away our ghostly
foe,
And thine abiding peace
bestow;
If thou be our preventing
Guide,
No evil can our steps betide.
Make thou to us the Father
known,
Teach us the eternal Son to
own,
Be this our neverchanging
creed,
That thou dost from them both
proceed.
All praise be thine, O risen
Lord,
From death to endless life
restored;
Whom with the Father we adore,
And Holy Ghost, for
evermore. Amen.
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