I set out to build you an altar, Lord,
Worthy of your holy name.
But this, the result of my feeble attempts,
Makes me bow my head in shame.
Dull rocks that I shape with fumbling hands,
And poor, inadequate tools,
O Lord, may your flood of amazing grace
Transform them into jewels.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem