Quit ye the soul's sorrow
Each soul has its sorrow: this ye ought first to quit and cast aside.
The soul's sorrow galls: quit it, then there is peace.
Wide, wide is the sea of bitterness: ill-fated be more than half therein:
But whoso find joy amid the bitter, theirs is an angel-spirit.
If woe and bitterness pass beyond sufferance, then 'tis an evil shift;
Though better than that hell which is the judge's gate: it were more grievous far.
Draw back but a step from your petty grief: ocean widens: heaven's void deepens: no need then to fret yourself.
The soul that can quit its thrall truly is as a land of boundless joy.
If quittance there be, but quittance be not complete, then exercise yourselves in secret charity.
Aye! But take count of all things:
The hoard of a good heart brings no hazard:
Look you! Its far reward is in the life to come, its near reward is beneath your eyes.
