Once more we come before our God;
Once more His blessings ask:
O may not duty seem a load!
Nor worship prove a task.

Father, Thy quickening Spi­rit send
From Hea­ven in Je­sus’ name,
To make our waiting minds attend,
And put our souls in frame.

May we receive the word we hear,
Each in an honest heart,
And keep the precious treasure there,
And ne­ver with it part.

To seek Thee all our hearts dispose,
To each Thy blessings suit,
And let the seed Thy servant sows
Produce a copious fruit.

Bid the refreshing north wind wake,
Say to the south wind, Blow;
Let every plant the power partake,
And all the garden grow.

Revive the parched with heavenly showers,
The cold with warmth divine;
And as the benefit is ours,
Be all the glo­ry Thine.