All parts must ever share the nature of their whole ...

All parts must ever share the nature of their whole , As nightingale pours out unto one rose its soul. Whatever property may qualify a thing 25 Externally, man's qualities are mind's offspring. From purity, rich colours rise, good qualities; Stains,-moral, or as dyes,-from gross impurities. " God's Baptism " is the name of all that's good in man; " The curse of God ," of all that's evil in our plan.

1 In which of these two seas our streamlets may subside, They but return into the source from whence their tide. From mountain-tops, swift torrents rushing down apace. From men's frames, love-inspired souls, anon the race. The counsel hear, that now, this Jewish dog did take.

Beside a fire a hideous idol he did make, 30 And proclamation ran: "Whoever ’d save his soul, This idol worships; or in fire he's burnt to coal." 2 Thus having made his hate an idol to himself, A second idol straightway he invents, this elf. The mother of all idols is our fleshly pride. They're dragons; this, the egg of cockatrice's bride. The flesh is flint and steel; our pride is but its spark. That pride pervades the flesh as fecundation's mark.

Can moisture quench the latent spark in flint and steel? Can man be safe while flesh and pride he lives to feel; 35 In flint and steel we know that fire is still alive. No water's of avail that fire from them to drive. With water we put out a fire when burning bright; The spark in flint and steel is safe from water's might. From flint and steel of flesh what burnings still ensue! Their sparks, the blasphemies of Christian and of Jew!

If water in the jug and pitcher come to end, On wellspring we must draw, a fresh supply to send. Our idol is the muddy dregs left in our jug; 40 The flesh the sewer from whence it filters, spite of plug. The graven idol (fed from blackest sewer tide In flesh, its graver), was as fountain by wayside. The inward idol, pride, the filthy jug's black slush; The prurient flesh, the source from which it had its gush.

A hundred potters’ pitchers one small stone can break; And spill the cooling water drawn our thirst to slake. To smash an idol, too, quite easy may appear; Not easy to root out the flesh; too hard, I fear. Would see the picture of the flesh, inquiring youths? 45 Description read of hell, with seven yawning mouths. 1 From each soul's flesh comes forth a special mode of guile. Each guile, a whirlpool ready Pharaoh's hosts to spoil. In Moses, and in Moses’ God, seek refuge then.