Creator Spirit, by Whose aid The world’s foundations first were laid, Come, visit every pious mind; Come, pour Thy joys on human kind; From sin, and sorrow set us free; And make Thy temples worthy Thee. O Source of uncreated Light, The Father’s promised Paraclete! Thrice holy Fount, thrice holy Fire, Our hearts with heav’nly love inspire; Come, and Thy sacred unction bring To sanctify us, while we sing! Plenteous of grace, descend from high, Thou strength of His almighty hand, Whose pow’r does Heav’n and earth command: Proceeding Spirit, our Defense, Who dost the gift of tongues dispense, And crown’st Thy gift with eloquence! Refine and purge our earthly parts; But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts! Our frailties help, our vice control; Submit the senses to the soul; And when rebellious they are grown, Then, lay Thy hand, and hold them down. Create all new; our wills control, Subdue the rebel in our soul; Make us eternal truths receive, And practice all that we believe; Give us Thyself, that we may see The Father and the Son by Thee. Immortal honor, endless fame, Attend th’almighty Father’s Name: The Savior Son be glorified, Who for lost man’s redemption died: And equal adoration be, Eternal Paraclete, to Thee. |