Filled! yea filled to overflowing,
Gracious Spirit! what so precious to my soul
As thy sweet presence? What so effectual
To exclude all else—the strivings
Of this “present evil world;” “the flesh,” “the devil,”
All so ready to intrude upon the heart
Which Thou alone shouldst fill.
Oh, fill, fill, fill my soul,
Leave no room for aught beside.
The ever-living, ever-giving power sent from above
To reign within the temple built for Thine abode!
Why shouldst Thou ever,
Grieved or quenched by me, lie dormant?
Forbid it, that I should not watch or wait
The coming of the glorious One,
Who promises to make us like unto Himself
On that, to us, bright resurrection morn,
When “we shall see Him as He is.”