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Translated by Isaac Williams
NOW our prayers are heard on high, | |
| And ’mid mortal men unblest, | |
| The good Comforter is nigh, | |
| Coming from the Father’s breast. | |
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| WHAT mysterious sight and sound, | 5 |
| Of our God the coming speaks! | |
| Like a rushing wind profound, | |
| All the house His presence shakes. | |
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| Like a fiery shower it falls | |
| All the hallow’d guests among, | 10 |
| Upon each within the walls | |
| Sitting like a flaming tongue. | |
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| While the bright and lambent blaze | |
| Plays their unharm’d heads around, | |
| It hath gone, with piercing rays, | 15 |
| To their deepest hearts profound. | |
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| All aghast the nations throng, | |
| While with other tongues they name | |
| Things that unto Heaven belong, | |
| And whate’er they speak is flame. | 20 |
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| Lo, again, O sight of fear, | |
| For the hearer hath a tongue; | |
| Of new prophets, while they hear, | |
| Hath another harvest sprung. | |
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| Praise to Father, and to Son, | 25 |
| And to Thee, the Holy One, | |
| By whose awful breath divine | |
| Our dull spirits burn and shine. | |
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