Oh, come, make haste,
Shall you not take my hand,
won't you help me through the night?

Time is far gone, twilight lies about,
chatter of the crowd dies silent,
no thing have I at hand
no noise, no distraction,
no coffin for thunders inside!

My love, I let her go,
won't take me with hands warm:
in carol of kisses sleep I not;
and no pill for pain to ease me!

Sweet Jesus, hear you not,
the cry indecent of sons estranged,
of children astray, to follow their own paths,
and such sorrows to find their way!

Help us back, Lord,
help us make it through the night!
It's late already, how come it keeps coming?
My Lord I trust to bring them down,
into ruin and oblivion, to cast my sin away,
the devil binding to blind with dawn,
and, off confusion, to light my way.