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Dedication I am penurious, my Lord! I am not capable of endowing a temple for the creatures of this world. I have not so much money. If, therefore, I turn this forlorn heart of a destitute into a genuine shrine, would you not render me the favour to step into the temple? Fount of Mercy! There is no holy water to be found anywhere in this region, and what little there is, is besmirched with the love of applause. Wherefore, if bathing in the benign springs of contemplation, I reach your proximity, shall I not be deemed purified: Ocean of Bliss! Blossoms are to be had only in a woodland, whereas at the moment I am dwelling in a desert. If, therefore, I come with empty hands, bearing merely the florets of my aspiration, will you not acknowledge this flower-worship? Resort of the Destitute! How can a destitute afford any oblations? If, therefore, I proffer the quintessence of this my paltry life as oblation at your hallowed feet, will you not kindly look upon it with an eye of commiseration? O Lord of Compassion! How can there be a genuine rosary, when there is not a single bead existing? Ah! I shall carry out to-day my contemplation of Thy
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