Mundi et Cordis | ||
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XVII. REALITY.
1
Reality's slaveFrom the womb to the grave,
Awake! awake! awake!
Wouldst thou nothing but feed
And sleep at thy need?
Awake! for thy soul's sake.
2
Art thou not a spiritOrdain'd to inherit
The universe for ever?
And from birth wilt thou creep
To thy worm-tended sleep,
And from thy clay pass never?
3
The past, the to-comeInform and illume
Thy present path, pale sleeper!
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Makes thy life-cloud more full,
And thy soul's shadow deeper.
4
From Reality's tranceThy spirit advance!
Be dreaming! dreaming! dreaming!
Let thy thought's rapid wave
Far, far o'er the grave
Be streaming! streaming! streaming!
Mundi et Cordis | ||