Once more we come before our God;
by Joseph Hart·1814·Meter 8.6.8.6 (CM)
Once more we come before our God;
Once more his blessing ask;
O may not duty seem a load,
Nor worship prove a task.
Father, thy quickening Spirit send
From heaven, in Jesus' name,
To make our waiting minds attend,
And put our souls in frame.
May we receive the word we hear,
Each in an honest heart;
Hoard up the precious treasure there,
And never with it part.
To seek thee all our hearts dispose;
To each thy blessings suit;
And let the seed thy servant sows
Produce a copious fruit.
Bid the refreshing north wind wake;
Say to the south wind, Blow;
Let every plant the power partake,
And all the garden grow.
Revive the parched with heavenly showers;
The cold with warmth divine;
And as the benefit is ours,
Be all the glory thine.