Paul's Prayer

Sweet and gentle Master

Lay upon my tired brow

The hands that rolled the waters back and

Fed a hungry crowd;

Walk with me, and bless with feet that

Must have bled with wear,

That same sole earth that saw your laughter 

 slowly

Change to tears;

Although you loved and cared for me just look at all I've done

Denouncing You and how You died.

You, whome God called His Son;

 You asked for me to feed the sheep we Romans barely knew

 By  blinding me with  vision,

You called a rogue to you.

 

And now the job is finished

My race is nearly run

I gladly turn my face to Thee

And cry, "God's will be done!'