L (11-03-1977 / )

Be Ye Servants Of The King

Be ye certain
That your sleeping shells
Become not caskets for the soul,
Nor, your temporal dreams,
The graves in which you rest.


Wake thyself and greet the Noble Morning;
The Glory that is the Son,
Then, kneel at dusk to bid Him
Short Farewell.

Open thy heart, that He may enliven thy mind,
And also, that you no longer be fools in the sight of Him,
Or, that the waters of your work
Be lukewarm so that He speweth you forth.


Be ye steadfast like unto a rock,
So that ye not slumber in His sight,
And, be awake O servant,
To welcome home His Majesty;

The King, The Light.


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