In anger saying: “What the plague’s come now to birth?
A lion tailless, headless, bodiless, who’s seen?
God such a lion ne’er created, sure, I ween!”
Have patience, thou too, brother, with thy needle’s smart.
So shalt thou ’scape the sting of conscience in thy heart.70
They who have conquered,—freed themselves from body’s thrall,
Are worshipped in the spheres, the sun, the moon, stars, all.
Whoever’s killed pride’s demon in his earthly frame,
The sun and clouds are slaves, to do his bidding, tame.
His heart can lessons give of flaming to the lamp;