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 remember-est 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)