He who dwells in light above,
God, most high and holy,
Sends the angel-thoughts of Love
To the meek and lowly;
Thoughts of purity and peace
Constantly descending,
Bidding pain and sorrow cease,
Help and comfort lending;
Bringing courage, strength, and hope
When the storm clouds gather,
Light when they in darkness grope,
Blessings from the Father.
So the contrite see His face,
For the High and Holy
Maketh thus His dwelling place,
With the meek and lowly.
