Spirit of God! descend upon my heart;
Wean it from earth; through all its pulses move;
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as thou art,
And make me love thee as I ought to love.
I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,
No sudden rending of the veil of clay:
No angel visitant, no opening skies—
But take the dimness of my soul away.
— George Croly.
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