Speak o’er me those desired and dreaded words: Pronounce my death while I yet live and breathe. Adorn me with the burnt kiss of our Lord, Preparing me for glory—and for grief.
Say to me what I most long and fear to hear! Announce my life to be of little worth Even as you declare that I am dear To the Maker who ordained and shared my birth.
Recite the scalding truth that heals and hurts; Heap cleansing coals upon me as I bow. Yet imitate the One Who draws in dirt By stamping His sweet sign upon my brow.
Please, oh please! My rent heart cries, “You must!” Christen me with this blessing: “You are dust.”