Come, O Creator Spirit Blest

Come

O Cre­at­or Spir­it blest

And in our souls take up Thy rest;

Come

with Thy grace and heav­en­ly aid

To fill the hearts which Thou hast made.

Great Com­fort­er

to Thee we cry;

O high­est gift of God most high

O Fount of life

O Fire of love

And sweet an­oint­ing from above!

The sac­red se­ven­fold grace is Thine

Dread fin­ger of the hand di­vine;

The pro­mise of the Fa­ther Thou

Who dost the tongue with pow­er en­dow.

Kindle our sens­es from above

And make our hearts o’er­flow with love;

With pa­tience firm

and vir­tue high

The weak­ness of our flesh sup­ply.

Far from us drive the foe we dread

And grant us Thy true peace in­stead;

So shall we not

with Thee for guide

Turn from the path of life aside.

O may Thy grace on us be­stow

The Fa­ther and the Son to know

And ev­er­more to hold con­fessed

Thyself of each the Spir­it blest.