“It is the Spirit that quickeneth.” John 6. 63; 14. 16
J. Hart C.M.
Blest Spirit of truth, eternal God,
Thou meek and lowly Dove,
Who fill’st the soul through Jesus’ blood,
With faith, and hope, and love;
Who comfortest the heavy heart,
By sin and sorrow pressed;
Who to the dead canst life impart,
And to the weary rest;
[Thy sweet communion charms the soul,
And gives true peace and joy,
Which Satan’s power cannot control,
Nor all his wiles destroy;]
Come from the blissful realms above;
Our longing breasts inspire
With thy soft flames of heavenly love,
And fan the sacred fire.
[Let no false comfort lift us up
To confidence that’s vain;
Nor let their faith and courage droop,
For whom the Lamb was slain.]
Breathe comfort where distress abounds,
Make the whole conscience clean,
And heal, with balm from Jesus’ wounds,
The festering sores of sin.
Vanquish our lust, our pride remove,
Take out the heart of stone;
Show us the Father’s boundless love,
And merits of the Son.
The Father sent the Son to die;
The willing Son obeyed;
The witness thou, to ratify
The purchase Christ has made.