For well I know, through good and ill,
That Thou in love hast chastened still,
Afflicting me in faithfulness,
That Thou my latter end may’st bless.
SOLOMON IBN GABIROL, 1050.
(Trans. Alice Lucas.)
YOM KIPPUR MEDITATIONS
I
MY soul, be not senseless, like a beast, deeply sunk;—be not drowsy, with passion drunk.—Hewn from reason’s mind thou art;—from wisdom’s well thy waters start,—from the Lord’s heavenly realm!
My soul, let not the body’s wanton pleasures capture thee,—its showy treasures not enrapture thee;—they melt away—like the dew before the day,—they avail naught when they begin,—and their end is shame and sin.
My soul, look carefully back—on thy pilgrim’s track;—all cometh from the dust,—and thither return it must.—Whatever has been moulded and built,—when its time is fulfilled,—must go back to the ground—where its material was found.—Death is life’s brother.—They keep fast to one another,—each taking hold of one end of their plunder,—and none can tear them asunder.—Soon thou wilt come—to thine eternal home,—where thou must show thy work and receive thy wages—on rightful scales and gauges,—or good or bad, according to the worth—of thy deeds on earth.