Spirit of God, descend upon my heart;
Wean it from earth, through all its pulses move.
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as you are,
And make me love you as I ought to love.
Teach me to feel that you are 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.
Teach me to love you as your angels love,
One holy passion filling all my frame;
The baptism of the Heaven-descended Dove,
My heart an altar and your love the flame.
(from a hymn by George Croly, slightly revised)
No comments:
Post a Comment