Page:TheParadiseOfTheChristianSoul.djvu/715

 heart, receive  me,  O good Jesus, the  life  and  salvation of my  soul! For not  in  my own  justification,  but  in  the multitude of  thy  mercies,  I cast  my  prayers  before  thy face.

I, the  lost  sheep,  return  to thee,  my  Shepherd. I know thine, but  not  the  stranger’s voice. Lead me,  O Lord,  I pray  thee,  back  to  thy  fold. Can it  be  that  thou  wilt  despise the  voice  of  thy  poor sheep that  runs  bleating  to thee  for  refuge? Is it  not thou who  hast  said,  Come  to me  all,  &amp;c.; and  again,  He shall  cry  to  me,  and  I will hear him; I am  with  him  in tribulation.

Behold, O Lord,  I cry  with my heart  more  than  with  my lips. Behold, tribulation  is close  at  hand,  and  there  is none  to  help  me; not  one  is there,  O good  Jesus,  to  deliver and  save  me  but  thou!

Not that I dare  aspire  to the  mansions  of  those  blessed spirits who  gaze  upon  the beauty of  the  most  holy  Trinity. I am but  a little  mite  of thy  creation,  that  craves  some crumbs of  thy  most  sweet table. Oh, that  I might  merit to be  thought  an  abject  in  the house of  the  Lord,  rather  than to dwell  in  the  tents  of  sinners!

O loving Jesus,my  strength, my refuge,  my  upholder,  my deliverer,  in  whom  I have hoped, whom  I have  believed, whom I have  loved! My sovereign sweetness,  my tower  of  strength,  and  my hope  from  my  youth! Call me, O Captain  of  my  life,  and I will answer  thee. Stretch forth the  right  hand  of  thy mercy to  the  work  of  thy hands, which  thou,  the  Creator of all  things,  hast  formed  of the  slime  of  the  earth,  which thou hast  framed  with  bones and sinews,  and  on  which,  by dying,  thou  hast  bestowed  life!

It is  time  that  dust  be turned  again  to  dust,  and  the spirit return  to  thee  the Saviour, who  hast  sent  it hither. Open to  it,  O Lord, the gate  of  life; for  it  is  for me that  thou  hast  hung  like a thief upon  the  Wood  of  the Cross; receive me,  O merciful God, according  to  the  multitude of  thy  tender  mercies. When thou  wert  dying  on the  Cross  thou  receivedst  the thief who  fled  to  thee. I am sick, my  strength  is  weakened through poverty,  and  therefore I fly  to  thee,  O Lord,  my Physician!

Heal me,  O Lord,  and  I shall  be  healed;  I trust  in thee,  therefore  I shall  not  be put  to  shame. In thee,  O Lord, have I hoped;  oh,  let  me  not be confounded  for  ever?