The Beautiful Hands of a Priest We need them in lifes early morning, We need them again at its close; We feel their warm clasp of true friendship, We seek it while tasting lifes woes. At the altar each day we behold them, And the hands of a king on his throne Are not equal to them in their greatness Their dignity stands all alone. For there in the stillness of morning Ere the sun has emerged from the east, There God rests between the pure fingers Of the beautiful hands of a priest. When we are tempted and wander To pathways of shame and of sin Tis the hand of a priest that absolve us. Not once, but again and again. And when we are taking lifes partner Other hands may prepare us a feast But the hands that will bless and unite us, Are the beautiful hands of a priest. God bless them and keep them all holy, For the Host which their fingers caress, What can a poor sinner do better Than to ask Him who chose them to bless When the hour of death comes upon us, May our courage and strength be increased By seeing raised oer us in blessing The beautiful hands of a priest poem by an unknown author
Posted on: Thu, 28 Nov 2013 15:58:33 +0000
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