1 Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;
Wean it from earth, through all its pulses move;
Stoop to my weakness, strength to me impart,
And make me love you 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 op'ning skies;
But take the dimness of my soul away.
3 Have you not bid me love you, God and King;
All, all your own, soul, heart, and strength, and mind?
I see your cross; there teach my heart to cling.
Oh, let me seek you and, oh, let me find!
4 Teach me to love you as your angels love,
One holy passion filling all my frame:
The baptism of the heav'n-descended dove,
My heart an altar, and your love the flame.
