1 O Thou! Who hast a temple shrine
In every lowly, contrite soul,
Spirit of God! These lips of mine
Touch with a living altar-coal.
2 No costly rites I need prepare,
No rich oblations need I bring;
The humble heart, the fervent prayer,
Are Thine accepted offering.
3 Guide to all truth, vouchsafe Thine aid,
Control my thoughts, direct my way;
May holy fear of Thee pervade
The varied duties of each day.
4 Ere I begin life’s common task,
Hushed be its feverish cares a while,
That calm reposing may I bask,
Eternal One! beneath Thy smile.
5 Giver and source of peace divine,
Thy will submissive would I wait;
Each pulse of heavenly life is Thine,
Descend, Thou promised Paraclete!
6 Not as of old, in awful power,
With rushing wind and lambent fire,
But gently, like the falling shower,
Great Spirit, come! my soul inspire!
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #8049