Eternal Spi­rit, God of truth,
Our con­trite hearts in­spire;
Kindle a flame of hea­ven­ly love,
And feed the pure de­sire.

’Tis Thine to soothe the sor­row­ing mind,
With guilt and fear op­pressed;
’Tis Thine to bid the dy­ing live,
And give the wea­ry rest.

Subdue the pow­er of ev­ery sin,
Whate’er that sin may be,
That we, in sin­gle­ness of heart,
May wor­ship on­ly Thee.

Then with our spi­rit wit­ness bear
That we are sons of God,
Redeemed from sin and death and hell
Through Christ’s aton­ing blood.