Come, Ho­ly Spi­rit, Dove di­vine,
Display Thy glo­ri­ous grace;
Unfold the truth, that it may shine,
And show the Sav­ior’s face.
Dark er­ror’s cloud from us remove,
Which in­ter­cepts the light;
And give us wis­dom still to prove
God’s way alone is right.

Touch our dull ears with heal­ing pow­er,
That we the Lord may hear,
And in this glad, this ho­ly hour,
May yield Him per­fect fear.
Within us let His im­age grow,
His will our wills con­trol,
Nor oth­er mas­ter let us know
Of life, or heart, or soul.

Make Thou the path of du­ty plain,
Nor from it let us stray;
And more may we Christ’s Spi­rit gain,
In ser­vice, day by day;
That we our mis­sion may ful­fill,
Our faith­ful wit­ness give,
And seek­ing ev­er but His will,
May to His glo­ry live.

Come, Ho­ly Spi­rit, come, O come!
Perform Thy work of grace;
Make our poor hearts Thine hon­ored home,
Thy chosen dwell­ing place.
And kin­dle there love’s hea­ven­ly fire,
A pu­ri­fy­ing flame,
Consuming ev­ery wrong de­sire,
And purg­ing sin’s deep shame.