We need them in life’s early morning, We need them again at its close; We feel their warm clasp of true friendship, We seek them when tasting life’s woes.
At the altar each day we behold them, And the hands of a king on his throne Are not equal to them in their greatness; Their dignity stands all alone;
And when we are tempted and wander, To pathways of shame and of sin, It’s the hand of a priest that will absolve us–Not once, but again and again.
And when we are taking life’s partner, Other hands may prepare us a feast, But the hand that will bless and unite us–Is the beautiful hand of a priest.
God bless them and keep them all holy, For the Host which their fingers caress; When can a poor sinner do better, Than to ask Him to guide thee and bless?
When the hour of death comes upon us, May our courage and strength be increased, By seeing raised over us in blessing–The beautiful hands of a priest.
This came off of an old prayer card, anonymous