45 E’en as the soul's reflection on the body acts...

45 E’en as the soul's reflection on the body acts, Reflection from th’ inspiring saints my soul impacts. When my soul's life shall quit my soul, alack-a-day! My soul shall lifeless be, like mortal soulless clay. ’Tis therefore that I cast myself down in the dust, That earth may witness bear for me before th’ All-Just. In day of judgment, "when the earth shall quake with fear," 1 Earth shall itself bear witness to my prayerful tear.

Command shall issue: "Loud proclaim the acts thou’st seen." The earth, the rocks, a tongue shall find, to tell what's been. 50 Philosophers deny this, in their pride of mind; But tell them: "Dash your heads against a wall, ye blind!" The speech of earth, of water, and of plastic clay, Is audible unto the ears of saints that pray. Philosophers who will deny God's saving grace, Are strangers to the powers of saints' inspired race.

He holds that inclination, working on man's brain, Gives rise to heated phantasy's legerdemain. True, his own blasphemy and lack of firm belief Have raised in him denial's phantom, reason's thief. 55 Philosophers deny the devil does exist; While they themselves his sport are, in his cursed fist. Hast never seen the devil? Look at thy own self! Who'd paint his forehead blue, unless deceived by elf? 2 Whoever hath a doubt or trouble in his mind, In secret's a philosopher, as you may find.

He wears the outward semblance of belief; but then, Anon and ever his philosophy claims pen. Beware, all ye believers! In you lurks this germ; 60 Within yourselves lies latent vile deception's sperm. The two and seventy sects are all within your hearts, 1 And only wait a chance to play their fatal parts. Whoever hath the bud of faith grown in his breast, As aspen-leaf must tremble, lest it be supprest.

Thou laughest at the devil in thy foolish pride; Thyself thou hast imagined sin's stern deicide. But when thy soul shall manifested be to all, Sad sighs and moans shall rise from those who're seen to fall. Exhibitors of base coin in this world below 65 Smile now; the touchstone yet is hidden in form's glow. O Veiler of men's sins! Lift not Thy veil from us! 2 In day of trial be our Helper, gracious! Adulteration now contends with purest coin; The gold awaits the day of trial to rejoin.

It slily thinks in its mute way, without ado: "Await a little, false ones! Trial comes! Soho! For was not Satan's self, in ages long gone by, Of light an angel, Prince of Powers, a galaxy, Until he envied Adam in his froward heart?