Come, Fa­ther, Son, and Ho­ly Ghost,
Whom one all-per­fect God we own,
Restorer of Thine im­age lost,
Thy va­ri­ous of­fic­es make known;
Display, our fall­en souls to raise,
Thy whole eco­no­my of grace.

Jehovah in three Per­sons, come,
And draw, and sprin­kle us, and seal
Poor, guil­ty, dy­ing worms, in whom
Thou dost eter­nal life re­veal;
The know­ledge of Thy­self be­stow,
And all Thy glo­ri­ous good­ness show.

Soon as our par­doned hearts be­lieve
That Thou art pure, es­sen­tial love,
The proof we in our­selves re­ceive
Of the three wit­ness­es above;
Sure, as the saints around Thy throne,
That Fa­ther, Word, and Spir­it, are One.

O that we now, in love re­newed,
Might blame­less in Thy sight ap­pear:
Wake we in Thy si­mi­li­tude,
Stamped with the Tri­une char­ac­ter;
Flesh, spir­it, soul, to Thee re­sign,
And live and die en­tire­ly Thine!