Now may the Spirit’s Holy Fire,
Descending from above,
His waiting Family inspire
With Joy and Peace and Love!

Thee we the Comforter confess;
Unless thou’rt present here,
Our Songs of Praise are vain Address,
We utter heartless Pray’r.

Wake, heav’nly Wind, arise and come,
Blow on the drooping Field;
Our Spices then shall breathe Perfume,
And fragrant Incense yield.

Touch, with a living Coal, the Lip
That shall proclaim thy Word,
And bid each awful Hearer keep
Attention to the Lord.

Hasten the Restitution-Day,
Which now Corruption shrouds,
New Heavens and new Earth display,
With Jesus in the Clouds.

George Whitefield, A Collection of Hymns for Social Worship, Seventh Edition., (London: William Strahan, 1758), 1–2.