I am but a poor creature, O my Lord; I have clung to the hem of Thy
riches. I am sore sick; I have held fast the cord of Thy healing. Deliver
me from the ills that have encircled me, and wash me thoroughly with the
waters of Thy graciousness and mercy, and attire me with the raiment of
wholesomeness, through Thy forgiveness and bounty. Fix, then, mine eyes
upon Thee, and rid me of all attachment to aught else except Thyself. Aid
me to do what Thou desirest, and to fulfill what Thou pleasest.
Thou art truly the Lord of this life and of the next. Thou art, in truth,
the Ever-Forgiving, the Most Merciful.
--Baha'u'llah
"Glory be to Thee, O Lord my God! I beg of..."
Glory be to Thee, O Lord my God! I beg of Thee by Thy Name through which
He Who is Thy Beauty hath been stablished upon the throne of Thy Cause,
and by Thy Name through which Thou changest all things, and gatherest
together all things, and callest to account all things, and rewardest all
things, and preservest all things, and sustainest all things--I beg of Thee
to guard this handmaiden who hath fled for refuge to Thee, and hath sought
the shelter of Him in Whom Thou Thyself art manifest, and hath put her
whole trust and confidence in Thee.
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