O God,
my heart is a vain heart,
a vagabond and unstable heart;
while it is led by its own judgment,
and wanting divine counsel,
it cannot subsist in itself;
and while its diverse ways seeks not, finds none,
but remains miserable through labor, and void of peace:
it agrees not with itself, it dissents from itself,
it alters resolutions, changes the judgment,
frames new thoughts, pulls down the old,
and builds them up again:
it wills and wills not;
and never remains in the same state.
Come, Holy Spirit,
and bring from heaven a ray of your light!
Come, O Father of the poor,
the giver of gifts,
the light of the world,
the blessed Comforter,
the dear guest of the soul,
and its sweetest refreshment;
you, our repose in labor,
our coolness in heat,
our comfort in affliction!
O most blessed Spirit,
fill full the hearts of your faithful people!
Without your influence there is nothing in us
that is not weakness and guilt.
O cleanse that which is sordid;
renew that which is dried up;
heal that which is wounded;
bend that which is stubborn,
cherish in your bosom that which is cold;
guide that which is wandering;
and grant unto your servants,
putting their trust in you,
the merit of your righteousness;
grant them final salvation;
grant them everlasting joy!
O Lord, hear our prayer, and let our cry come unto you. Amen.
—Adapted from Bernard of Clairvaux, 12th c. In Prayers of the Middle Ages: Light from a Thousand Years, ed. J. Manning Potts (The Upper Room, 1954), alt. P.D.