From A Litany:

III

The Holy Ghost

O Holy Ghost, whose temple I

Am, but of mud walls, and condensed dust,

And being sacrilegiously

Half wasted with youth’s fires, of pride and lust,

Must with new storms be weatherbeat;

Double in my heart thy flame,

Which let devout sad tears intend; and let

(Though this glass lanthorn, flesh, do suffer maim)

Fire, sacrifice, priest, altar be the same.

Selections take from: John Donne: A Critical Edition of the Major Works,  edited by John Carey; Oxford: OUP, 1990