The Spir­it binds us to our Lord
But once in Him we find
Communion sweet, as oil out­poured,
With kin­dred hearts and minds.

Beneath His yoke, our ea­sy tie,
We count as com­mon store
Our gifts and grac­es—rich supply
For him who needs them more.

Such aid is giv’n to those who call
On Christ’s name any­where:
Their out­ward need is borne by all,
As much as each can bear.

But out­ward aid alone won’t fill
The store­house of the saints,
For in­ward aid is bet­ter still
To Chris­tian sup­pli­cants.

We, by our Faith, are bound to meet
In wor­ship of the Lord,
And flood our Fa­ther’s mer­cy seat
With pray­ers in one accord.

May God’s own Spir­it keep us ’til
We meet at hea­ven’s door
And gifts we shared be­low then will
Be changed for heav’n­ly store.