Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;
Wean
it from earth; through all its pulses move;
Stoop
to my weakness, mighty as
Thou
art;
And
make me love Thee as I ought
to
love.
2
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.
3
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
to
cling:
O
let me seek Thee, and O let me find!
4
Teach
me to feel that Thou art always nigh;
Teach
me the struggles of the soul
to
bear.
To
check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh,
Teach
me the patience of unanswered prayer.
5
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.