Your Good Fruit

O Lord, I am a salty waste
     Where nothing good can grow,
And I have not that heaven’s taste
     Comes from good seeds You sow.

I ask You, Lord, come wash away
     This waste that plagues me so,
And come in me to have Your way
     That Your fruit I may know.

Created new may my taste be
     For fruit from Your true vine;
May other people see in me
     The virtues from Your wine.

And then may I Your good fruit grow
     As Your branch I become;
For virtues You have in me sowed
     To glorify God’s Son.