Sweetest Fount of holy gladness

Sweetest Fount of holy gladness,
Fairest light was ever shed,
Who alike in joy and sadness
Leavest none unvisited;
Spirit of the Highest God,
Lord, from whom is life bestow'd,
Who upholdest ev'rything,
Hear me, hear me, while I sing.

Thou art shed like gentlest showers
From the Father and the Son,
Bringing to us quicken'd powers,
Purest blessing from their throne;
Suffer then, O noble Guest,
That rich gift by Thee possest,
That Thou givest at Thy will,
All my being now to fill.

Thou art ever true and holy,
Sin and falsehood Thou dost hate;
But Thou comest where the lowly
And the pure Thy presence wait;
Wash me then, O well of grace,
Every stain and spot efface,
Let me flee what Thou dost flee,
Grant me what Thou lov'st to see.

Well content am I if only
Thou wilt deign to dwell with me;
With Thee I am never lonely,
Never comfortless with Thee;
Thine for ever make me now,
And to Thee, my Lord, I vow
Here and yonder to employ
Every power for Thee with joy,

When I cry for help, oh hear me
When I sink, oh haste to save;
When I die, be inly near me,
Be my hope e'en in the grave;
Bring me when I rise again
To the land that knows no pain,
Where Thy followers from Thy stream
Drink for ever joys supreme!

Source: Chorale Book for England, The #73