Poem XII

1Every form you see has its archetype in the placeless world;If the form perished, no matter, since its original is everlasting.

2Every fair shape you have seen, every deep saying you have heard,Be not cast down that it perished; for that is not so.

3Whereas the spring-head is undying, its branch gives water continually;Since neither can cease, why are you lamenting?

4Conceive the Soul as a fountain, and these created things as rivers:While the fountain flows, the rivers run from it.

5Put grief out of your head and keep quaffing this river-water;Do not think of the water failing; for this water is without end.

6From the moment you came into the world of being,A ladder was placed before you that you might escape.

7First you were mineral, later you turned to plant,Then you became animal: how should this be a secret to you?

8Afterwards you were made man, with knowledge, reason, faith;Behold the body, which is a portion of the dust-pit, how perfect it has grown!

9When you have travelled on from man, you will doubtless become an angel;After that you are done with this earth: your station is in heaven.