Spirit of God, that moved of old
Upon the waters' darkened face,
Come, when our faithless hearts are cold,
And stir them with an inward grace.
Thou that art pow'r and peace combined,
All highest strength, all purest love,
The rushing of the mighty wind,
The brooding of the gentle dove.
Come, give us still thy pow'rful aid,
And urge us on, and make us thine;
Nor leave the hearts that once were made
Fit temples for thy grace divine.
Nor let us quench thy sev'nfold light;
But still with softest breathings stir
Our wayward souls, and lead us right,
O Holy Ghost, the Comforter.