Spirit of God, Descend Upon My Heart

Spirit of God, who dwells within my heart, 

wean it from sin, through all its pulses move. 

Stoop to my weakness, mighty as you are, 

and make me love you as I ought to love. 

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies, 

no sudden rending of the veil of clay, 

no angel visitant, no opening skies; 

but take the dimness of my soul away. 

Did you not bid us love you, God and King, 

love you with all our heart and strength and mind? 

I see the cross there teach my heart to cling. 

O let me seek you and O let me find! 

Teach me to feel that you are always nigh; 

teach me the struggles of the soul to bear, 

to check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh; 

teach me the patience of unceasing prayer. 

Teach me to love you as your angels love, 

one holy passion filling all my frame: 

the fullness of the heaven-descended Dove; 

my heart an altar, and your love the flame. 

by George Croly, 1780-1860

an Irish poet, novelist, historian and Anglican priest