Labor awaits you, soul, great labor,
if you would know yourself,
the what, the whither, and the whence,
the way of now behaving—
whether it should be as it is
or whether more is expected;
labor awaits you, soul, and a purer life.
If you would ponder on God and probe
into
his mysteries,
if you would know what was there
before
the world and the world itself—
the source from which it came to
you,
the end that will take it from you:
labor awaits you, soul, and a purer
life.
If you would know how God guides
the helm of the world and the course
he plots,
why he set some things like rocks in
the sea
while others he left in flux—
why men most of all are caught in
the stream
and the swirl of perpetual change:
labor awaits you, soul, and a purer
life.
If you would show me my former
glory,
the shame that has come to succeed
it,
what binds me to this mortal life
and what my end will be—
if you would hold this light to my
mind
and drive dark error from it:
labor awaits you, soul; may it not
undo you.