Teach me, Lord, to conquer myself by myself. Bless me that my discrimination become the charioteer of the steeds of my five senses, firmly holding the reins of my mind. Let my soul, riding on the wheels of discipline in the little chariot of my body, drive triumphantly over the speedway of earth‐lives until, on the last lap of the last race, it finds itself safe, O King of Kings! in Thy vast royal palace.


152. Teach Me Not to Be Deceived by the Senses