O Sapientia

Accept from our hands
This crown of prayer and praise.
Accept these woven spells
Of thy Father's ancient lays.
Together we make these songs of longing.
Together we hear the drums talking
As it was always in Africa,
As in Philistia and ancient Nubia.
Thou art the One whose song
Made the spell that made the day.
Accept from our hands
This lovesong of prayer and praise.
And what wouldst thou make
Of these songs we sing?
Tear down this temple
Unless it bears humility.