[Commonplace books: Thomas Farnaby, 17th-century]
Is your hand not powerful enough to heal all my soul's ills, all-powerful God, and by a still more generous grace to extinguish unruly stirrings even in my sleep? Yes, Lord, you will heap gift after gift upon me, that my soul may shake itself free from the sticky morass of concupiscence and follow me to you. As for those foul obscenities in my dreams, where bestial imagination drives the flesh to point of polluting itself, grant that this soul of mine, through your grace rebellious against itself no more, may not even consent to, still less commit them. You are the Almighty, able to do more than we ask or understand, and it is no great task for you to make provision that nothing of this kind shall arouse the least sensual pleasure - not even the slight titillation as may be easily restrained - in a person of chaste intention while he is asleep, and this even in the prime of life.
Posted by stronzo on 06.04.2009
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