Have mercy on me O Lord,
Born of sinful man, my lips untrained to sing thy praise,
movement of my being in a dissonance offset from Thy perfection,
from Thy perfection, who can measure?
For I have inflicted fondness of time's measure on your gifts,
and spun too thin a line of desire, a pauper's ways, unfit for heirs;
Forgive the dearth of hope that shows its crag and fracture in the light of love's smile;
Impoverish my mind with the fullness of your goodness;
Starve my understanding by thy broad places,
By thy ways,
By thy means,
Even your body.