Without a toper's courage, Love
Consists of naught save trick and guile
A man, whose Love of God is great,
Has brawny arms and is agile.
Alas the love of case and rest
Among the pilgrims seems profound
A man, who journey's toils may deem,
As steed and food, is nowhere found.
O men of plains, do not think
That I teach the beastly mode and art
The lonely desert arid the mounts
The man Self knowledge can impart.
This world observes traditions old,
In world to come mere hymns can serve
Forge both worlds and stick to God,
If kingly grandeur you wish to deserve.