For they go whither they were to go,
that they might not be; and they rend her with pestilent longings,
because she longs to be, yet loves to repose in what she loves. But in
these things is no place of repose; they abide not, they flee; and who
can follow them with the senses of the flesh? yea, who can grasp them,
when they are hard by? For the sense of the flesh is slow, because
it is the sense of the flesh; and thereby is it bounded. It
sufficeth for that it was made for; but it sufficeth not to stay
things running their course from their appointed starting-place to the
end appointed. For in Thy Word, by which they are created, they hear
their decree, "hence and hitherto."
Be not foolish, O my soul, nor become deaf in the ear of thine heart
with the tumult of thy folly. Hearken thou too.
The Word itself calleth thee to return: and there is the place of
rest imperturbable, where love is not forsaken, if itself forsaketh
not. Behold, these things pass away, that others may replace them, and
so this lower universe be completed by all his parts.
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