Oh great and merciful God,

hear the cry of your humble servant;

You the One who reigns on high,

Incline your ear to this lowly minion.

Why am I subjected to such pain

amidst the carols of a season of joy?

Why am I burdened with study, papers, and tests

when all others have carols, gifts, and peace?

In four classes have I called upon your name

and four times have you answered not!

Three more did I lay prostrate on the floor

and three times were I left in darkness of sleep!

Still, I am patienced to await the day

of no more tests, papers, and study;

For you are a God who sends peace, gifts, and carols

to those who seminary does not destroy.

Oh great and merciful God,

hear the cry of your humble servant.

All thanks be to you--the Eternal Creator,

The Author and Finisher of my life--

no cry is too faint that you do not hear

nor prayer so great that you do not answer.

I will ever sing your praises to the Brite commune,

even in darkness occasioned by missed readings.