526 ~ O, Spread the Tidings Round
1
O, spread the tidings round, Wherever man is found, Wherever human hearts And human woes abound; Let every Christian tongue Proclaim the joyful sound: The Comforter has come!
2
The long, long night is past, The morning breaks at last; And hushed the dreadful wail And fury of the blast, As o'er the golden hills The day advances fast. The Comforter has come!
3
O boundless Love divine! How shall this tongue of mine To wondering mortals tell The matchless grace divine — That I, a child of sin, Should in His image shine! The Comforter has come!
4
Sing, 'till the echoes fly Above the vaulted sky, And all the saints above To all below reply, In strains of endless love, The song that ne'er will die: The Comforter has come!