This is enough to know, the phantasms are; The Heavens, Earths, Worlds, and changes changing them A mighty whirling wheel of strife and stress Which none can stay or stem. Pray not! the Darkness will not brighten! Ask Nought from the Silence, for it cannot speak! Vex not your mournful minds with pious pains! Ah! Brothers, Sisters! seek Nought from the helpless gods by gift and hymn, Nor bribe with blood, nor feed with fruit and cakes; Within yourselves deliverance must be sought; Each man his prison makes. Each hath such lordship as the loftiest ones; Nay, for with Powers above, around, below, As with all flesh and whatsoever lives, Act maketh joy and woe. What hath been bringeth what shall be, and is, Worse--better--last for first and first for last; The Angels in the Heavens of Gladness reap Fruits of a holy past. The devils in the underworlds wear out Deeds that were wicked in an age gone by. Nothing endures: fair virtues waste with time, Foul sins grow purged thereby. Who toiled a slave may come anew a Prince For gentle worthiness and merit won; Who ruled a King may wander earth in rags For things done and undone. Higher than Indra's ye may lift your lot, And sink it lower than the worm or gnat; The end of many myriad lives is this, The end of myriads that. Only, while turns this wheel invisible, No pause, no peace, no staying-place can be; Who mounts will fall, who falls may mount; the spokes Go round unceasingly! If ye lay bound upon the wheel of change, And no way were of breaking from the chain, The Heart of boundless Being is a curse, The Soul of Things fell Pain. Ye are not bound! the Soul of Things is sweet, The Heart of Being is celestial rest; Stronger than woe is will: that which was Good Doth pass to Better--Best. I, Buddh, who wept with all my brothers' tears, Whose heart was broken by a whole world's woe, Laugh and am glad, for there is Liberty Ho! ye who suffer! know Ye suffer from yourselves. None else compels None other holds you that ye live and die, And whirl upon the wheel, and hug and kiss Its spokes of agony, Its tire of tears, its nave of nothingness. Behold, I show you Truth! Lower than hell, Higher than heaven, outside the utmost stars, Farther than Brahm doth dwell, Before beginning, and without an end, As space eternal and as surety sure, Is fixed a Power divine which moves to good, Only its laws endure.