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Prayer of St. Symeon the New Theologian

From sullied lips
From an abominable heart
From an unclean tongue
Out of a polluted soul
Receive my prayer, O my Christ
Reject me not
Nor my words, nor my ways
Nor even my shamelessness
But give me courage to say
What I desire, my Christ
And even more, teach me
What to do and say
I have sinned more than the harlot
Who, on learning where Thou wast lodging
Bought myrrh
And dared to come and anoint
Thy feet, my Christ
My Lord and my God
As Thou didst not repulse her
When she drew near from her heart
Neither, O Word, abominate me
But grant me Thy feet
To clasp and kiss
And with a flood of tears
As with most precious myrrh
Dare to anoint them
Wash me with my tears
And purify me with them, O Word
Forgive my sins
And grant me pardon
Thou knowest the multitude of my evil-doings
Thou knowest also my wounds
And Thou seest my bruises
But also Thou knowest my faith
And Thou beholdest my willingness
And Thou hearest my sighs
Nothing escapes Thee, my God
My Maker, my Redeemer
Not even a tear-drop
Nor part of a drop
Thine eyes know
What I have not achieved
And in Thy book
Things not yet done
Are written by Thee
See my depression
See how great is my trouble
And all my sins
Take from me, O God of all
That with a clean heart
Trembling mind
And contrite spirit
I may partake of Thy pure
And all-holy Mysteries
By which all who eat and drink Thee
With sincerity of heart
Are quickened and deified
For Thou, my Lord, hast said
Whoever eats My Flesh
And drinks My Blood
Abides in Me
And I in Him
Wholly true is the word
Of my Lord and God
For whoever partakes of Thy divine
And deifying Gifts
Certainly is not alone
But is with Thee, my Christ
Light of the Triune Sun
Which illumines the world
And that I may not remain alone
Without Thee, the Giver of Life
My Breath, my Life
My Joy
The Salvation of the world
Therefore I have drawn near to Thee
As Thou seest, with tears
And with a contrite spirit
Ransom of my offences
I beseech Thee to receive me
And that I may partake without condemnation
Of Thy life-giving and perfect Mysteries
That Thou mayest remain as Thou hast said
With me, thrice-wretched as I am
Lest the tempter may find me
Without Thy grace
And craftily seize me
And having deceived me, may seduce me
From Thy deifying words
Therefore I fall at Thy feet
And fervently cry to Thee
As Thou receivedst the Prodigal
And the Harlot who drew near to Thee
So have compassion and receive me
The profligate and the prodigal
As with contrite spirit
I now draw near to Thee
I know, O Saviour, that no other
Has sinned against Thee as I
Nor has done the deeds
That I have committed
But this again I know
That not the greatness of my offences
Nor the multitude of my sins
Surpasses the great patience
Of my God
And His extreme love for men
But with the oil of compassion
Those who fervently repent
Thou dost purify and enlighten
And makest them children of the light
Sharers of Thy Divine Nature
And Thou dost act most generously
For what is strange to Angels
And to the minds of men
Often Thou tellest to them
As to Thy true friends
These things make me bold, my Christ
These things give me wings
And I take courage from the wealth
Of Thy goodness to us
And rejoicing and trembling at once
I who am straw partake of fire
And, strange wonder
I am ineffably bedewed
Like the bush of old
Which burnt without being consumed
Therefore with thankful mind
And with thankful heart
And with thankfulness in all the members
Of my soul and body
I worship and magnify
And glorify Thee, my God
For Thou art blessed
Now and throughout the ages
Amen

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