245 O Father, may Thy word prevail

1 O Father, may Thy word prevail Against the gates of hell! Behold the vineyard Thou hast tilled With thorns and thistles filled. 'Tis true, Thy plants are there; But, ah, how weak and rare! How slight the power and evidence Of word and sacraments! 2 Come, Jesus, come and contemplate Thy vineyard's sad estate: Baptized are millions in Thy name, But where is faith's pure flame? Of what avail that we Know of Thine agony, So long as we do not o'erthrow In faith the wicked foe? 3 O Holy Ghost, to Thee, our light, We cry by day, by night: Come, grant us of the light and power Our fathers had of yore; When Thy dear Church did stand A tree, deep-rooted, grand; Full-crowned with blossoms white as snow, With purple fruits aglow!