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