1 Come down, O love divine,
Seek out this soul of mine
And visit it with Your own ardor glowing;
O Comforter, draw near,
Within my heart appear,
And kindle it, Your holy flame bestowing.

2 O let it freely burn,
Till earthly passions turn
To dust and ashes in its heat consuming;
And let Your glorious light
Shine ever on my sight,
And clothe me round, the while my path illuming.

3 And so the yearning strong
With which the soul will long
Shall far outpass the power of human telling;
For none can guess God's grace,
Till Love creates a place
Wherein the Holy Spirit makes a dwelling.