Come God, come guard

Come bitter trek

Bring haste to guide

This noble neck

 

While doom does drop

It's efforts choke

We celebrate

The doomed yoke

 

No burden large

Shall steal our wings

Or plant its vice

Where angels sing

 

Let heaven call

With beaconed voice

Deliver the saint

It's the perfect choice

 

Let heal sweet hope

On darkened face

Draw the dismal

From it's place.

 

Now praises raise

From attendants blue

As God comes in

Becomes the view

 

 

 

 

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