597. Increase Yourself, Lord

I haven't had much time or energy to spare lately for anything but travel (when I was traveling) and work (since I've been back), but somehow this sprouted up. You know how it goes. I go through a hymn-writing dry spell now and then, and at this point I know better than to try to force it when I don't have an idea in my head. But then an idea comes and I have to grab a pencil and start scribbling it down before it gets away. And as usual, hymn-tune fanboy that I am, I don't have any particular tune in mind for this hymn. Art: Matthias Grünewald's Isenheim altarpiece, detail, public domain.

Increase Yourself, Lord Jesus, while I wane:
My pride, my powers, all my will subdue.
Increase Your glory, though it be through pain;
Fill up my iciness, my void with You.

You know the inward death that I conceal,
The fervent vows from which I feebly turn,
The coward conscience I but dully feel,
The secret fire wherein I daily burn.

Yet You Yourself have braved the tempter's trick:
Alone, O second Adam, You withstood.
You bore atonement's immolating prick;
You sprinkled me with purifying blood.

Come now Yourself, Lord Jesus, where I kneel,
Mouth open, living manna to receive.
Come, pour Yourself, like costly wine, yet real,
Real blood, that I through You at last might live.

I wait, Lord Jesus, envying the stones
That caught the drops, the crumbs that from You fell.
Breathe, speak into these dry, unsinewed bones:
Call me—nay, live in me, and all is well.

UPDATE: All right, I picked a tune. Believe it or not, it's ELLERS by E.J. Hopkins, 1867, as in "Savior, again to Thy dear name we raise."