And now, Lord, what is my hope? Truly, my hope is even in
Thee. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, yet I will fear
no evil. Lord, Thou knowest whereof we be made; Thou rememberest that we are
but dust. I am Thine, Oh, save me! Behold, O Lord, how that I am Thy servant,
and the son of Thine handmaid. Thine unprofitable servant; yet Thy servant. Thy
lost prodigal child, yet Thy child. Into Thy hands I commend myself as unto a
faithful Creator.
Lord, I am created in Thine own image. Suffer not Thine own
image to be utterly defaced, but renew it again in righteousness and true
holiness. Into Thine hands I commend myself, for Thou hast redeemed me, Thou
God of Truth. Amen.
Lancelot Andrewes (1555-1626)
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