8,8,8,8 Spirit of God, in love descend, And make our hearts Thy place of rest; In all our need a steadfast Friend, To fill our store with gifts the best; To cleanse our souls with holy fire From sordid stains that guilt imparts, And with Thy heavenly power inspire Our languid zeal, and fainting hearts; To lift our minds to nobler things Than earth from all its best can show -- The wealth that flies on speedy wings, The fleeting joys, like sparks that glow. Come in the hour of sore distress, When deep the heart for comfort sighs; And with Thy soothing kindliness The tear-drops wipe from weeping eyes. "Lo, I am with you to the end," Thus speaks the promise of our Lord; O Spirit of the Christ, descend, Fulfil to us the gracious word. |