PRAYER OF THE CONSECRATED

WE seek not, Lord, for tongues of flame

 Or healing virtue’s mystic aid;

But power Thy Gospel to proclaim—

The balm for wounds that sin hath made.

Breathe on us, Lord; Thy radiance pour

On all the wonders of the page

Where hidden lies the heavenly lore

That blessed our youth and guides our age.

Grant skill each sacred theme to trace,

With loving voice and glowing tongue,

As when upon Thy words of grace

The wondering crowds enraptured hung.

Grant faith, that treads the stormy deep,

If but Thy voice shall bid it come;

And zeal, that climbs the mountain steep,

To seek and bring the wanderer home.

Give strength, blest Savior, in Thy might;

Illuminate our hearts, and we,

Transformed into Thine image bright,

Shall teach, and love, and live, like Thee!

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