2. Come from on high to me;
I cannot rise to Thee
Cheer my wearied spirit,
O pure and holy Child;
Through Thy grace and merit,
Blest Jesus, Lord most mild,
|: Draw me unto Thee! :|

3. Now through His Son doth shine
The Father's grace divine.
Death o'er us had reigned
Through sin and vanity;
He for us obtained
Eternal joy on high.
|: May we praise Him there! :|

4. Oh, where shall joy be found?
Where but on heavenly ground?
Where the angels singing
With all His saints unite,
Sweetest praises bringing
In heavenly joy and light.
|: Oh, that we were there! :|