1 Come, holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers, 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?
5 Come holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers; Come shed abroad a Saviour's love, And that shall kindle ours.