Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove,
With all Thy quick¡¦ning
powers;
Kindle a flame of sacred love
In these cold hearts
of ours.
Look how we grovel here below,
Fond of these trifling
toys;
Our souls can neither fly nor go
To reach eternal
joys.
In vain we tune our formal songs,
In vain we strive to
rise;
Hosannas languish on our tongues,
And our devotion
dies.
Dear Lord! and shall we ever live
At this poor dying rate?
Our love so faint, so cold to Thee,
And Thine to us so great!
Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove,
With all Thy quick¡¦ning
powers;
Come, shed abroad the Saviour¡¦s love
And that
shall kindle ours.