1 Spirit of truth, on this Thy day,
To Thee for help we cry,
To guide us through the weary way
Of dark mortality.

2 We ask not, Lord, the cloven flame,
Or tongues of various tone;
But long Thy praises to proclaim,
With fervor in our own.

3 We mourn not that prophetic skill
Is found on earth no more:
Enough for us to trace Thy will
In Scripture’s sacred lore.

4 When tongues shall cease, and power decay,
And knowledge empty prove,
Do Thou Thy trembling servants stay,
With faith, and hope, and love.