S.M.
Davies
Come, Holy Spirit, come!
With energy divine,
And on this poor benighted soul
With beams of mercy shine.
From the celestial hills,
Life, light, and joy dispense;
And may I daily, hourly feel,
Thy quick'ning influence.
Melt, melt this frozen heart;
This stubborn will subdue;
Each evil passion overcome,
And form my soul anew.
Mine will the profit be,
But thine shall be the praise;
And unto thee I would devote
The remnant of my days.