Scripture Verse

I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever; Even the Spirit of truth. John 14:16–17

Introduction

Words: Hein­rich Held (Komm, o komm, du Geist des Le­bens), in Prax­is Pi­eta­tis Me­li­ca, by Jo­hann Crü­ger (Stet­tin [now Szcze­cin, Po­land]): cir­ca 1664). Trans­lat­ed from Ger­man to Eng­lish by Charles W. Schaef­fer, 1866, in the Pen­nsyl­van­ia Lu­ther­an Ch. Book, 1868, alt.

Music: Lux Pri­ma (Gou­nod) Charles F. Gou­nod, 1872 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Held or Schaef­fer (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

portrait
Charles F. Gounod (1818–1893)

Lyrics

Come, O come, Thou quickening Spi­rit,
God from all eternity!
May Thy power ne­ver fail us;
Dwell within us constantly.
Then shall truth and life and light
Banish all the gloom of night.

Grant our hearts in fullest measure
Wisdom, counsel, purity,
That we ever may be seeking
Only that which pleaseth Thee.
Let Thy knowledge spread and grow,
Working error’s overthrow.

Show us, Lord, the path of blessing;
When we trespass on our way,
Cast, O Lord, our sins behind Thee,
And be with us day by day.
Should we stray, O Lord, recall;
Work repentance when we fall.

With our spirit bear Thou witness
That we are the sons of God
Who rely upon Him solely
When we pass beneath the rod;
For we know, as children should,
That the cross is for our good.

Prompt us, Lord, to come before Him
With a childlike heart to pray;
Sigh in us, O Ho­ly Spi­rit,
When we know not what to say.
Then our prayer is not in vain,
And our faith new strength shall gain.

If our soul can find no comfort,
If despondency grows strong,
And the heart cries out in anguish,
Oh my God, how long, how long?
Comfort then our aching breast,
Grant it courage, patience, rest.

Holy Spi­rit, strong and mighty,
Thou who makest all things new,
Make Thy work within us perfect
And the evil foe subdue.
Grant us weapons for the strife
And with vic­to­ry crown our life.

Guard, O God, our faith for­ev­er;
Let not Satan, death or shame
Ever part us from our Sav­ior;
Lord, our refuge is Thy name.
Though our flesh cry ever: Nay!
Be Thy Word to us still Yea!

And when life’s frail thread is breaking,
Then assure us more and more,
As the heirs of life unending,
Of the glo­ry there in store,
Glory ne­ver yet expressed,
Glory of the saints at rest.