1 Come, Jesus, Lord, with holy fire,

Come, and my quickened heart inspire,

My conscience purged by blood;

Now to my soul Thyself reveal,

Thy mighty working let me feel,

Since I am born of God.

2 Let nothing now my heart divide,

Since with Thee I am crucified,

And live to God in Thee.

Dead to the world and all its toys,

Its idle pomp and fading joys,

Jesus, my glory be.

3 Now with a quenchless thirst inspire,

A longing, infinite desire,

And fill my craving heart.

Less than Thyself, oh, do not give,

In might Thyself within me live;

Come, all Thou hast and art.