I heard this old familiar hymn playing on the ferry this afternoon, coming back from Seattle; love the humble words of that second verse -- a lovely anthem for those days when the path seems unbearably dim...
"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."
from Morecambe, Frederick C. Atkinson