Come down, O Love divine!
seek out this soul of mine
and visit it with your own ardour glowing;
O Comforter, draw near,
within my heart appear,
and kindle it, your holy flame bestowing.
There let it freely burn
till earthly passions turn
to dust and ashes in its heat consuming;
and let your glorious light
shine ever on my sight,
and make my pathway clear, by your illuming.
Let holy charity
my outward vesture be,
and lowliness become my inner clothing;
true lowliness of heart
which takes the humbler part,
and for its own shortcomings weeps with loathing.
And so the yearning strong
with which the soul will long
shall far surpass the power of human telling;
for none can guess its grace
till we become the place
in which the Holy Spirit makes his dwelling.
Branco da Siena (d. 1434) tr. R F Littledale (1833-1890)
Acts 2: 1-4 When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues[a] as the Spirit enabled them.
Deep in my longing soul I cry,
When comes the promised holy fire,
When will the holy breathe come down
And fill my being, my life crown,
With living tongues of sacred flame
That I might preach your glorious name.
Lord set my heart at one accord
And fill my house, I here implore.
Fill my whole being, let me raise
A hymn for thankfulness and praise.
O Holy Pentecostal gift
Come to me now and my soul lift .
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