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If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin this is: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do! They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake
Then move not while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purged
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