To The Soul
O thou, who springest gloriously
From thy Creator's fountain blest,
Arise, depart, for this is not thy rest!
The way is long, thou must prepared be,
Thy Maker bids thee seek thy goal—
Return then to thy rest, my soul,
For bountifully has God dealt with thee.
Behold! I am a stranger here,
My days like fleeting shadows seem.
When wilt thou, if not now, thy life redeem?
And when thou seek'st thy Maker have no fear,
For if thou have but purified
Thy heart from stain of sin and pride,
Thy righteous deeds to Him shall draw thee near.
O thou in strength who treadest, learn
To know thyself, cast dreams away!
The goal is distant far, and short the day.
What canst thou plead th' Almighty's grace to earn?
Would thou the glory of the Lord
Behold, O soul? With prompt accord
Then to thy Father's house return, return!
Jehuda Halevi.