1 Come down, O Love divine, seek thou this soul of mine and visit it with thine own ardor glowing; O Comforter, draw near, within my heart appear, and kindle it, thy holy flame bestowing. 2 O let it freely burn, till earthly passions turn to dust and ashes in its heat consuming; and let thy glorious light shine ever on my sight, and clothe me round, the while my path illuming. 3 Let holy charity Mine outward vesture be, And lowliness become my inner clothing; True lowliness of heart which takes the humbler part, And o’er its own shortcomings weeps with loathing. 4 And so the yearning strong with which the soul will long shall far out pass the power of human telling; for none can guess its grace, till Love create a place wherein the Holy Spirit makes a dwelling.