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LXIV: “Praise be to Thee, O Lord my God, my Master!…” |
Praise be to Thee, O Lord my God, my Master!
Thou hearest the sighing of those who, though they
long to behold Thy face, are yet separated from
Thee and far distant from Thy court. Thou testifiest
to the lamentations which those who have recognized
Thee pour forth because of their exile from Thee and
their yearning to meet Thee. I beseech Thee by those
hearts which contain naught except the treasures of
Thy remembrance and praise, and which show forth
only the testimonies of Thy greatness and the evidences
of Thy might, to bestow on Thy servants who
desire Thee power to approach the seat of the revelation
of the splendor of Thy glory and to assist them
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whose hopes are set on Thee to enter into the tabernacle
of Thy transcendent favor and mercy.
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Naked am I, O my God! Clothe me with the robe
of Thy tender mercies. I am sore athirst; give me to
drink of the oceans of Thy bountiful favor. I am a
stranger; draw me nearer unto the source of Thy
gifts. I am sick; sprinkle upon me the healing waters
of Thy grace. I am a captive; rid me of my bondage,
by the power of Thy might and through the force
of Thy will, that I may soar on the wings of detachment
towards the loftiest summits of Thy creation.
Thou, verily, doest what Thou choosest. There is no
God but Thee, the Help in Peril, the All-Glorious,
the Unconstrained.
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