My tongue cannot shape the air with pow'r
that it does not quickly fade to vapor;
yet by Thy word, O Lord--
passive, spoken into void--
Thou hast made the heav'ns and earth.
Then be that void, o my soul!
Pass prayer and praise between these lips
until empty of all breath the Spirit
hovers o'er my darkness speaking,
Let there be, and, it was good.
