Let the words of my mouth And the meditation of my heart Be pleasing to You When my day turns to night And the winter frost bites Be the sun that blankets my moon A contrite heart You will not despise And feeble hands You will not deny The very hands that fashioned the stars Are the ones that hold this fragile heart Every blade, every grain, every flower in the field Knows the sound of Your simple tune Every dove, every tree, every creature of the deep Oh, they move to the rhythms of You A contrite heart You will not despise And feeble hands You will not deny The very hands that fashioned the stars Are the ones that hold this fragile heart Though my flesh may faint And my heart may break And my mind may fail You are my portion Though my flesh may faint Heart may break Mind might be frail You are my portion A contrite heart You will not despise And feeble hands You will not deny The very hands that fashioned the stars Are the ones that hold this fragile heart