Page:The Army and Navy Hymnal.djvu/55

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THE HOLY SPIRIT

\version "2.16.2" 
\header { tagline = ##f title = \markup { "28" "               " "Holy Spirit, Faithful Guide" } subsubtitle = "(HOLY SPIRIT. 7,7,7,7,D.)" composer = "Marcus Morris Wells" poet = "M. M. Wells, 1815–1858" }
\score { << << \new Staff { \key g \major \time 3/4 \relative d' {
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  << { b4.( a8) g4 } \\ { d2 g4 } >> | <a fis>2. |
  <b g>2 q4 | <g d'>2 <g d>4 |
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  <c fis,>2 q4 | <b g>2 q4 |
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  <d g,>2 q4 | <b g>2 q4 | <c a>2 <b g>4 | <a fis>2. | \break
  << { d,2 d4 } \\ { d2 d4 } >> | <g d>2 q4 |
  << { b4.( a8) g4 } \\ { d2 g4 } >> | <a fis>2. |
  <b g>2 q4 | <g d'>2 <g d>4 |
  << { fis4.( g8) } \\ { d2 } >> <d a'>4 | <g d>2. \bar "|."
  <g e> <g d> \bar ".." } }
\new Staff { \clef bass \key g \major \relative g {
  <g b>2 q4 | q2 q4 |
  << { d'4.( c8) } \\ { g2 } >> <g b>4 | <d d'>2.
  <g d'>2 q4 | <b g>2 q4 |
  << { a4.( b8) } \\ { d,2 } >> <d c'>4 | <g, b'>2. %end line 1
  q2 q4 | q2 q4 |
  << { d''4.( c8) } \\ { g2 } >> <g b>4 | <d d'>2.
  <g d'>2 q4 | <b g>2 q4 |
  << { a4.( b8) } \\ { d,2 } >> <d c'>4 | <g, b'>2. %end line 2
  <d' a'>2 q4 | << { g2 g4 } \\ { g2 g4 } >> |
  <d d'>2 q4 | <g d'>2. |
  <g b>2 q4 | <g d'>2 q4 | <fis d'>2 <g d'>4 | <d d'>2. %end line 3
  <g, b'>2 q4 | q2 q4 |
  << { d''4.( c8) } \\ { g2 } >> <g b>4 | <d d'>2.
  <g d'>2 q4 | <b g>2 q4 |
  << { a4.( b8) } \\ { d,2 } >> <d c'>4 | <g, b'>2.
  <c c'> <g g' b> } } >> >>
\layout { indent = #0 }
\midi { \tempo 4 = 112 } }


  1. Ho-ly Spir-it, faith-ful Guide,
    Ev-er near the Christian's side;
    Gen-tly lead use by the hand,
    Pil-grims in a des-ert land;
    Wea-ry souls for-e'er re-joice,
    While they hear the sweet-est voice,
    Whispering soft-ly,
    'Wanderer come; Fol-low Me, I'll Guide thee home.'
  2. Ev-er pres-ent, tru-est Friend,
    Ev-er near thine aid to lend;
    Leave us not to doubt and fear,
    Grop-ing on in dark-ness drear;
    When the storms are rag-ing sore,
    Hearts grow faint, and hopes give o'er
    Whispering soft-ly,
    'Wanderer come; Fol-low Me, I'll Guide thee home.'
  3. When our days of toil shall cease,
    Wait-ing still for sweet re-lease,
    Noth-ing left but heaven and prayer,
    Won-d'ring if our name are there;
    Wad-ing deep the dis-mal flood,
    Plead-ing nought but Je-sus' blood,
    Whispering soft-ly,
    'Wanderer come; Fol-low Me, I'll Guide thee home.'
    A-men

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