Come, let us to the Lord our God,

With contrite hearts return!

Our God is gracious, nor will leave

The desolate to mourn.

2 His voice commands the tempest forth,

And stills the stormy wave;

And though his arm be strong to smite,

’Tis also strong to save.

3 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.

4 As dew upon the tender herb,

Diffusing fragrance round;

As showers that usher in the spring,

And cheer the thirsty ground:

5 So shall his presence bless our souls,

And shed a joyful light

That hallowed morn shall chase away

The sorrows of the night.