STRENGTHENED WITH MIGHT BY HIS SPIRIT IN THE INNER MAN

OME to our poor nature's might,
With Thy blesséd inward light,
Holy Ghost the Infinite.
Comforter divine:

We are sinful; cleanse us, Lord;
Sick and faint; Thy strength afford:
Lost, until by Thee restored,

Comforter divine.

Orphan are our souls, and poor;
Give us from Thy heavenly store
Faith, love, joy, for evermore,
Comforter divine:

Like the dew, Thy peace distil;
Guide, subdue our wayward will,
Things of Christ unfolding still.
Comforter divine.

Gentle, awful, holy Guest,

Make Thy temple in each breast Shrine of purity confessed,

Comforter divine:

In us, for us, intercede,

And with voiceless groanings plead Our unutterable need,

Comforter divine.

In us, "Abba, Father," cry,
Earnest of our bliss on high,
Seal of immortality,

Comforter divine:

Search for us the depths of God;
Bear us up the starry road

To the height of Thine abode,
Comforter divine.

THROUGH HIM WE HAVE ACCESS BY ONE SPIRIT UNTO THE FATHER.

OLY Spirit, given

For our guide to heaven,
Sent by love divine;

With Thy peace consoling,

Every ill controlling,

On our darkness shine!

Faith and hope and love increasing,
Fill our hearts with joy unceasing.

Lord, of life the Giver,
Dwell with us forever:

Heavenly life inspire:
All within renewing,
With Thy grace enduing

Heart, mind, thought, desire!
Fount of life forever flowing,
Grace and peace on us bestowing.

Fill our meditation

With Thine inspiration:

Graft us in Thy word:
So may we possessing

Thine all-fruitful blessing,
Glorify our Lord,

Follow Him with faith unfeignéd,
Till we have His rest attainéd.

Only through His merit
We Thine aid inherit :

In His Name we plead:
Never let us grieve Thee,
But with joy receive Thee,
Fulness of our need:

In our wealth, and in affliction,

Crown us with Thy benediction. Amen.

IT IS THE SPIRIT THAT QUICKENETH.

POLY Spirit, Lord of Light,
From Thy clear celestial height

Thy pure beaming radiance give:
Come, Thou Father of the poor,
Come, with treasures that endure,
Come, Thou Light of all that live.

Thou, of all consolers best,
Visiting the troubled breast,

Dost refreshing peace bestow;
Thou in toil and comfort sweet,
Cooling breath in noontide heat,
Solace in the hour of woe.

Light most blissful, Light divine,
Visit Thou these hearts of Thine,
And our inmost being fill!
If Thou take Thy grace away,
Nothing pure in man will stay;
All his good is turned to ill.