Yet the heart turns away
From the grand destiny of bliss, and deems
'T was made for its poor self, for passing dreams,
Chasing illusions, melting day by day,
Till, for ourselves, we read, on this world's best,
This is not rest!
Just in proportion as you gain a victory over the evil which you have become aware of in yourself, will your spiritual eyes be purged for a brighter perception of the Holy One.
