1 Come, Holy Spirit, Heav'nly Dove,
With all thy quick'ning Pow'rs,
Kindle a Flame of sacred Love
In these cold Hearts of ours.
2 Look, how we grovel here below,
Fond of these Trifling Toys;
Our Souls can neither fly nor go,
To reach eternal Joys.
3 In vain we tune our formal Songs,
In vain we strive to rise;
Hosannas Languish on our Tongues,
And our Devotion dies.
4 Dear Lord! and shall we ever lie
At this poor dying Rate;
Our Love so faint, so cold to thee?
And thine to us so great?
4 Come, Holy Spirit, Heav'nly Dove,
With all thy quick'ning Pow'rs,
Come, shed abroad a Saviour's Love,
And that shall kindle ours.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Come, Holy Spirit, Heav'nly Dove |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Topic: | Supplicatory Hymns |