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OLY Spirit! Lord of light!

From   Thy    clear  celestial height,

Thy pure,  beaming  radiance give:

Come, Thou  Father  of  the poor!

Come, with  treasures  which endure! Come, Thou  light   of  all that live! Thou, of  all  consolers  best, Visiting the  troubled  breast, Dost refreshing  peace  bestow :

Thou in  toil    art  comfort sweet;

Pleasant coolness  in  the  heat; Solace in  the  midst  of  woe.

Light immortal! light divine! Visit Thou  these  hearts  of Thine,

And our  inmost  being  fill:

If Thou  take  Thy  grace  away, Nothing pure  in  man  will  stay ; All his  good  is  turn'd  to  ill.

Heal    our     wounds  —  our strength renew;

On our  dryness  pour  Thy  dew; Wash the  stains  of  guilt away:

Bend the  stubborn  heart  and will; Melt the  frozen, warm  the  chill; Guide the  steps  that  go astray.