From Thy ha­bi­ta­tion ho­ly,
Spirit of all truth, des­cend,
While we sin­ners, poor and low­ly,
At the throne of mer­cy bend;
Help our weak­ness—
And a gra­cious an­swer send!

Come Thou, as the dew of Her­mon
Softly falls on Zi­on’s hill
Let us in Thy strength de­ter­mine
Henceforth to ob­ey Thy will—
Dwell with­in us—
Let Thy grace our bo­soms fill.

Brooding o’er us as on cha­os
Cause our dark­ness to re­treat;
Shine in­to our hearts, and lay us
Humbled at the mer­cy-seat—
Guide us—use us
As Thy sov­er­eign love sees meet.

When the heart is crushed and brok­en,
When be­reave­ment dims the eye,
Let us claim the pro­mise spok­en
By those lips that can­not lie—
Blessèd Sav­ior,
Send Thy Spir­it from on high.

When we tread the waves of Jor­dan,
O be near us, sac­red Guest!
Seal to us our hope of par­don;
Dove-like o’er each bil­low’s crest
Do Thou hov­er—
Guiding to eter­nal rest!