Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;
Wean it from earth; through all its pulses move;
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as
And make me love Thee as I ought
I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay,
No angel visitant, no open'ng skies;
But take the dimness of my soul away.
Hast Thou not bid us love Thee,
God and King?
All, all Thine own, soul, heart and strength and mind.
I see Thy cross; there teach my heart
O let me seek Thee, and O let me find!
Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh;
Teach me the struggles of the soul
To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh,
Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer.
Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love,
One holy passion filling all my frame;
The baptism of the heav'n descended dove,
My heart an altar, and Thy love the flame.