Bring truth from labour. Let me not digress
Into embattled emptiness. Infill
My cold confusion with Your burning will;
Shaping my trackless path with tenderness.
Let me be pregnant with Your verity.
Let this poor self be means unto your end.
Into my blind indulgences descend
With beauty of divine simplicity.
Not to my glory, that is little worth,
But to the living honour of Your Name.
Despite my weakness, let my work proclaim
Something of You to this tired, desperate earth.