I ask You to reveal Yourself to me,
To make me know Your true and mighty Form.
In doing so I might ask the sky
To set on me a great and deadly storm.
How dare I, a mortal being, seek
A treasure far too great for human eyes?
I, the finite dustling, dare to ask.
I, the sinner, hiding in a pious guise.
Instead I ask that You would merely show
Your will, that I might follow every word.
For of You Yourself in all your power:
No eye has seen nor any ear has heard.