Thou beggest still for bread, like a blind man, with leers.
Thy stomach make void of foul greed’s lust for bread.
Thy heart thou’lt find filled with deep love for Godhead.
Thy infant soul wean from the gross milk of greed,
Then teach it to join, next, in angel’s pure creed.
So long thou remainest in darkness and thrall,
A bantling of Satan thou art, out at call.95
The morsel that brings a pure light to the soul
Is earned by endeavour; not begged with a bowl.
Should oil, upon trimming, extinguish a lamp,