If anyone says to this mountain, Mark 11:23
Go, throw yourself into the sea, and does not doubt in his heart but believes that what he says will happen, it will be done for him.
Words: Attributed variously to Charlemagne, Ambrose of Milan, Gregory I, & Rhabanus Maurus (Veni Creator Spiritus, Mentes tuorum visita). Translated from Latin to English by John Dryden, Miscellaneous Poems 1693.
Creator Spirit, by whose aid
The world’s foundations first were laid,
Come, visit every waiting mind;
Come, pour Thy joys on human kind;
From sin, and sorrow set us free;
And make Thy temples worthy Thee.
O source of uncreated light,
The Father’s promised Paraclete!
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heav’nly love inspire;
Come, and Thy sacred unction bring
To sanctify us while we sing!
Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Thou strength of His almighty hand,
Whose power does Heav’n and earth command:
Proceeding Spirit, our defense,
Who dost the gift of tongues dispense,
And crown Thy gift with eloquence!
Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice control;
Submit the senses to the soul;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then, lay Thy hand, and hold them down.
Create all new; our wills control,
Subdue the rebel in our soul;
Make us eternal truths receive,
And practice all that we believe;
Give us Thyself, that we may see
The Father and the Son by Thee.
Immortal honor, endless fame,
Attend th’almighty Father’s name:
The Savior Son be glorified,
Who for lost man’s redemption died:
And equal adoration be,
Eternal Paraclete, to Thee.