Creator Spirit, by whose aid
The world’s foundations first were laid,
Come, visit every waiting mind;
Come, pour Thy joys on human kind;
From sin, and sorrow set us free;
And make Thy temples worthy Thee.

O source of uncreated light,
The Father’s promised Paraclete!
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heav’nly love inspire;
Come, and Thy sacred unction bring
To sanctify us while we sing!

Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Thou strength of His almighty hand,
Whose power does Heav’n and earth command:
Proceeding Spirit, our defense,
Who dost the gift of tongues dispense,
And crown Thy gift with eloquence!

Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice control;
Submit the senses to the soul;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then, lay Thy hand, and hold them down.

Create all new; our wills control,
Subdue the rebel in our soul;
Make us eternal truths receive,
And practice all that we believe;
Give us Thyself, that we may see
The Father and the Son by Thee.

Immortal honor, endless fame,
Attend th’almighty Father’s name:
The Savior Son be glorified,
Who for lost man’s redemption died:
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to Thee.