0, 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!

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!

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!

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!