Oh I have forgotten the decorums of the soul
Dislodged by the shock of birth and life,
What am I to even gaze at Thee who art all,
Hence I seek right bowings in this time brief.

Gracious art Thou like the ever benevolent Sun
Shining upon worm and saint endlessly patient,
But I am like a column crooked and broken
Who am only ’cause Thou art in graces infinite.

A thousand thousand arguments were born,
All born from crucible of pain and plainly just,
Yet to be in Thy proximity I shall these disown
For what greater glory can gather to this dust.

Pry from me myself, mind not my rebellions,
“To Thee I belong, to Thee all is owed”, so declare all my selves.