Forget not who thou art, thou son of God,
For God demands reflection pure of thee;
Thy heritage is goodly, and thy home
Is in the covert of infinity.
Thou art the child of Spirit, sinless, pure;
Thine is a perfect beauty, born of Soul;
Wholeness is thine, and health, and energy.
For is not God, thy Father, perfect, whole?
Thine understanding, too, doth come from God.
For in that Mind, magnificent and clear,
Wast thou conceived of Him, a pure idea,
Unhampered by the flesh, or doubt, or fear.
So now look up into God's holy light
And greet with fearless joy each coming day.
Of royal birth, a King's own child, art thou—
And God is thine, and thou art God's alway.
