We on your highest port
Do your mighty pardon seek
We, like mere goods to board
Pray you strengthen our bones so weak
II
We, who are your fingers’ mould
Seek your mighty hand to hold
We, so lost, like some foolish sheep
Do call on your merciful powerful guide
III
We hide
When we must your loving guide abide
We cry
When your gentle waves do chide
We rebel
When we feel we’ve lost your side
But your loving compass, to lead
Does always show
Like the blessed star no matter how long it takes
So please and please
Help our problems bake
Into the loving breads we sure can take
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015