Hymns for Whit-Sunday, 3

Eternal Spirit, come
Into Thy meanest home,
From Thine high and holy place
Where Thou dost in glory reign,
Stoop in condescending grace,
Stoop to the poor heart of man.

For Thee our hearts we lift,
And wait the heavenly Gift:
Giver, Lord, of life Divine,
To our dying souls appear,
Grant the grace for which we pine,
Give Thyself THE COMFORTER.

No gift or comfort we
Would have distinct from Thee,
Spirit, principle of grace,
Sum of our desires Thou art,
Fill us with Thy holiness,
Breathe Thyself into our heart.

Our ruin'd souls repair,
And fix Thy mansion there,
Claim us for Thy constant shrine,
All Thy glorious Self reveal,
Life, and power, and love Divine,
God in us for ever dwell.