To The Supreme Being

From The Italian Of Michael Angelo

THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed If Thou the spirit give by which I pray: My unassisted heart is barren clay, That of its native self can nothing feed: Of good and pious works thou art the seed, That quickens only where thou say'st it may: Unless Thou show to us thine own true way No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead. Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind By which such virtue may in me be bred That in thy holy footsteps I may tread; The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind, That I may have the power to sing of thee, And sound thy praises everlastingly.