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.