Lord, fit me to Thy dextrous, shaping hand
As a keen-tempered—as a well-wrought tool;
As a well-balanced sickle, as a plane;
As a straight-edged and calibrated rule.
Buff me and smooth me—burnish me that I
May be a polished shuttle for Thy weft.
Shape me and perfect me that what I am
May prove a proper chalice for Thy draught.
Make me responsive to Thy moving will
As waves and willows answer to the wind;
Fashioned as fitly to Thy craftsmanship
As action is to thought—as thought to Mind.
