Holy Spirit, Lord of Light,
From the clear celestial height,
Thy pure beaming radiance give.
Come, Thou father of the poor,
Come, with treasure to endure,
Come, Thou light of all that live.
Light immortal, light divine,
Visit now, these hearts of Thine,
And our inmost being fill:
For without Thy grace, all turns to ill.
Veni, Sancte Spiritus,
Veni, Sancte Spiritus,
Veni, Sancte Spiritus,
Heal our wounds, our strength renew;
On our dryness pour Thy dew;
Wash the stains of guilt away:
Bend the stubborn heart and will;
Melt the frozen, warm the chill;
Guide our steps when we go astray:
Light immortal, light divine,
Visit now, these hearts of Thine,
And our inmost being fill:
For without Thy grace, all turns to ill
Writer(s): John Michael Talbot
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