Your being's sanctum gets from Self its inner light; save zeal and firm resolve, naught can make life e'er bright.

Its rank is higher than the Pleiades and the moon, your essence and its gifts are Ego's greatest boon.

God save that alien Self seek shelter in your shrine; the creed of idols shun, don't desecrate house divine.

Forgetfulness of Self imports the height of art, but with the loss of Self both joy and warmth depart.