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 Thy 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 to Thee,

And sound Thy praises everlastingly! Amen.

—Michelangelo