Chapter XXIII

New Sword from Maker's Hand, in Edge and Point all bright;
See that in dirty Scabbard, it rust not, out of Sight!
Gold that in Miser's Coffer, in Blackness meanly lay,
Upon the Shah's Throne gleaming, becomes a World's Delight.
When full Clouds pour the Rain-drops, lo! every glad Tree drinks;
Fruits redden on the Apple tree, as Leaves grow pale in Fright.
This Stalk an empty Pipe still, in that sweet Sugar swells;
Yet both did sip the same Tank, at Morning, Noon, and Night.
One Deer distils perfumed Musk, another bitterest Gall,
Yet grazed together, side by side, upon the self-same Height.
Two creeping Worms together fed upon the same green Leaf;
One spins mere useless Theadlets, the other Silk aright.
The Bee's Lip, and the Snake's sucked from the self-same Flower;
The one made Honey's Sweetness, the other Poison's Bite.
One dines, and all his Nutriment transmutes to Life divine;
Another's Food is souring to Hatred and to Spite.
One's Eyes drink Light till blinded; the other stores it up,
And glows in rosy Brightness, Love-robed in red and white.
Be pure in all thy Members, and from Nature's golden Tree
Pluck God's own Blessing daily, and grow in Manhood's Might.

Cleanliness