Listen, My Sister

Hast thou heard the demands of the core of thy heart,My sister?—singled them out, set them apartFrom the wide vague fancies, the keen brief pangs of desire,The longings that pass as a breathOr blaze as a fireThat scorches and scars? Hast thou tried to make sureWhat good thou shalt crave of thy life, to endureFor thy life, unto death?

Find it, my sister. Single it out; look deepIn thy soul and search well. Test the strengthOf what seemeth thine uttermost wish by the lengthOf the days that may dawn ere the last bringeth sleep;And balance its weightAs of jewels and goldThat may buy thee content with the wealth of thy fate,Though but brief be the hours thou shalt holdTo thy bosom thy treasure.

By all else thou couldst have thou shalt measureThe worth of what seemeth the most and the best;And when thou hast finished the quest,Knowing surely thine ultimate need,Make ready to forfeit all else. The great good must be bought;Somewhat thou must pay as the meedOf thy birthright, for God giveth nothing for naught;And his price may be great.

Thy life is thine all: do thy utmost that soIt may yield thee its utmost. Be patient to waitFor fruition, be instant to knowIn what field, from what seed-pod, the harvest may grow.Ask aid of the vision that sees thee most clearly—thy own;And ask of the wisdom of souls that have tested and known.—Ah little sister and young, I have known, I have lived; I am right;Believe when I tell thee what far and forever outweigheth the rest:The heart of a man on thy heart day and night,A child on thy breast.