Thou dost pour down all the sublime riches of Thy boundless mercy. Thou art the merciful father of the tatherless and friendless who look to Thee for comfort and support. Thou art all-powerful, as Thou art all-merciful. Mercy wedded to power gives it grace. Thou art just, but Thou dost temper Thy justice with mercy. Thy mercy outshines Thy justice. Unspeakable are Thy mercies, O Merciful Lord!
Zarathushtra fondly folded to his heart all those whose eyes were tired by tears and whose hearts were worn by sighs. He felt the sorrows and sufferings of the destitute and downtrodden. The sad look of the lean, emaciated poor pierced his feeling heart. It warmed to their sufferings and bled in sorrow for them. His soft heart went out in pity to the worn and weary and all the days of his life he strove to refresh them with the sweet waters of his mercy.
I weary Thee, Ahura Mazda, by day and by night with my troubles, and despite my shortcomings, Thou of compassionate heart, dost deal mercifully with me. Thou dost mercifully look upon me and Thy eyes shed compassion. Thou dost incline Thy ears to the whispers of my aching heart.
Let me never pass unmoved when my neighbor’s sorrow stares in my face. Let me feel his sorrow. Let my heart be soft and warm and never hard and cold to the woes of others. Let it be soft as wax and not hard as stone. Let me never grow callous and pitiless at the piteous sight of pain and misery. Let pity be lodged in my heart. Mercy makes me tender of heart. It makes me gentle and genial. I profit by the kindly deeds of mercy that I do. I may not have power to rule, I may not have power to judge but it is in my power to show mercy to all who need it. I pray for Thy mercy upon me and I will be merciful to Thine, O Thou Everlasting Fount of Mercy!
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