Teacher Divine, we ask Thy grace,

These sacred leaves to unfold:

Here, in the Gospel’s clearest glass,

Let us Thy face behold.

Show us Thy Sire; for known to Thee

The Father’s glories are:

The dread Paternal Majesty

Thou only canst declare.

Open the Scriptures; now reveal

All which for us Thou art:

Talk with us, Lord, and let us feel

The kindling in our heart.

In Thee we languish to be found;

To catch Thy words we bow;

We listen for the quickening sound:

Speak, Lord; we hear Thee now.