Sunday next before Advent

O, would that I were fairer. Lord!
More what Thy Bride should be,
More meet to be the sharer. Lord!

Of Love and heav'n with Thee;
Yet if Thy Love with me Thou'lt share,
I know that Love can make me fair.

O, would that I were purer, Lord!
More fill'd with grace divine,
O, would that I were surer, Lord!

That my whole heart is Thine;
Were it so pure that I might see
Thy beauty, I would grow like Thee.

O, would that I could higher. Lord!
Above these senses live,
Each feeling, each desire. Lord!

Could wholly to Thee give;
The Love I thus would daily share,
That Love alone would make me fair.

Thy goodness and Thy beauty. Lord!
Shall robe and mirror be.
With ornaments of duty. Lord!

I'll deck my soul for Thee;
Till all Thy Love, beyond compare.
Pass into me, and make me fair.