41. To My Soul

41 TO MY SOUL Be wise, my precious soul, and haste To bow to God in reverence. Let vanities no more be chased, Bethink thee ere this world lies waste, The world that waits thee going hence. Thy life to God’s life is akin, Concealed like His beneath a veil, Since He is free of flaw or sin, Like purity thou too canst win, To reach perfection wherefore fail? And as His arm upholds the sky, Do thou thy dumb brute body lift, Thou, soul, to which we can descry No like on earth—O magnify The God of whom thou art the gift. Greet then, my soul, thy Rock with praise, Hail him, my inmost heart, with song Unceasingly throughout my days, And let all souls their voices raise My benediction to prolong.