Come, Holy Spirit, Heavenly Dove

Come

Holy Spir­it

heav’n­ly Dove

With all Thy quick’n­ing pow­ers;

Kindle a flame of sac­red love

In these cold hearts of ours.

Look how we gro­vel here be­low

Fond of these trif­ling toys;

Our souls can nei­ther fly nor go

To reach eter­nal joys.

In vain we tune our for­mal songs

In vain we strive to rise;

Hosannas lang­uish on our tongues

And our de­vo­tion dies.

Dear Lord! and shall we ev­er live

At this poor dy­ing rate?

Our love so faint

so cold to Thee

And Thine to us so great?

Come

Ho­ly Spir­it

heav’n­ly Dove

With all Thy quick’n­ing pow­ers;

Come

shed abroad the Sav­ior’s love

And that shall kin­dle ours.