I draw near to Thy temple door

And cast myself upon the floor

For with the curtain Thou hast torn

A royal priesthood has been born

My incense in my hand I hold

My prayers of dust Thou turnest gold

And pleases to recieve from me

Despite my stained humanity

Thou settest me upon my feet

Before Thy covered mercy seat

And biddest me to raise my head

And seek to know Thee more, instead

No cloud of smoke surroundeth Thee

But only Holy Majesty

Which blinds the eyes of Pharisees

And lightens those who cannot see

In this sacred place and time

Thou bidst me take the bread and wine

The holy blood and body tell

Of a priest who sacrificed Himself.

Scribbles