O Ho­ly Ghost, Thy peo­ple bless
Who long to feel Thy might,
And fain would grow in ho­li­ness
As child­ren of the light.

To Thee we bring, who art the Lord,
Ourselves to be Thy throne;
Let ev­ery thought and deed and word
Thy pure do­min­ion own.

Life giv­ing Spir­it, o’er us move,
As on the form­less deep;
Give life and or­der, light and love,
Where now is death or sleep.

Great gift of our as­cend­ed king,
His sav­ing truth re­veal;
Our tongues in­spire His praise to sing,
Our hearts His love to feel.

True wind of Heav’n, from south or north,
For joy or chas­ten­ing, blow;
The gar­den spic­es shall spring forth
If Thou wilt bid them flow.

O Ho­ly Ghost, of se­ven­fold might,
All grac­es come from Thee;
Grant us to know and serve aright
One God in per­sons three.