1  Oh, 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  Lo, the great King of kings, with healing in His wings,

    To every captive soul a full deliv'rance brings;

    And through the vacant cells the song of triumph rings:

             The Comforter has come!

 4  O boundless love divine! How shall this tongue of mine

    To wond'ring mortals tell the matchless grace divine —

    That I, a child of hell, should in His image shine!

             The Comforter has come!