Equipped for Flight

Wilt thou yet pursue youth after twoscore years and ten
Since thy days are equipped for flight?
And wilt thou flee from the service of God
And long for the service of men?
And wilt thou seek the face of many
And forsake the face of One sought out for all delight?
And art thou too slothful to take provision for thy way,
And wilt thou sell thy portion for a mess of pottage?
Saith not thy soul yet unto thee, 'Enough’,
But reneweth her desire month by month?
Incline from her counsel to the counsel of God,
And turn aside from the five senses;
And make thyself acceptable to thy Creator for the rest
Of thy days which press on and hasten;
And seek not with a double heart for His favour
And go not to meet good omens,
But to do His will be strong as a leopard,
Swift as a roe, and mighty as a lion.
And let not thine heart be shaken in the heart of the seas,
When thou beholdest mountains move and totter,
And seamen with hands limp as rags,
And wise craftsmen standing dumb,’
Which joyfully went face forward,
But turn their backs ashamed;
And only the ocean before thee for a haven,
And no refuge for thee, but snares,
And the sails quiver and shake,
And the beams stagger and strain,
And the hand of the wind playeth with the waters
Like men lifting sheaves in the threshing;
And now it maketh of them threshing-floors,
And anon it maketh of them stacks of sheaves.
When they prevail they come like lions,
And when they faint they creep like snakes,
The last chasing the first,
Like adders which will not be charmed,
And the mighty ship falleth like an atom by the blow of a mighty one,
And the mast and the sails arc grown weak,
And the ark and her chambers are confused,
The lowest with the second and the third;
And they that pull the ropes are in travail,
And women and men in desperation,
And the spirit is gone from their pilots.
And the bodies are weary of the souls,
There is no worth in the strength of the masts,
And no desire for the guidance of the old men;
And the cedar-masts are accounted as stubble,
The fir beams as if they were reeds.
And the ballast of sand on the surface of the sea is like a straw,
And the iron sockets are like bits of chaff,
And the people pray, each one to his holy one,
But thou turnest to the Holy of Holies,
And rememberest the marvels of the Red Sea and the Jordan,
Which are graven upon all hearts.
Thou praisest Him that stilleth the roaring of the seas,
When its waters cast up mire;
And while thou recallest unto Him the abominations of unclean hearts
He recalleth for thee the merit of the saintly fathers.
He will renew His wondrous deeds when thou
Before Him the dancing song of Mahli and
And He will restore the souls to the bodies,
And the dry bones shall come to life.
Then in a moment the waves are stilled,
Like flocks spread abroad upon the field;
And the night, when the sun hath come down the steps
Of the starry host, captained now by the moon,
Is like an Ethiopian woman in raiment of gold And of blue inset with crystals.
And the stars are confused in the heart of the sea
Like strangers driven out of their homes;
And after their image, in their likeness, they make light
In the sea’s heart, like flames of fire.
The face of the waters and the face of the heavens, the infinity of sea,
The infinity of night, are grown pure, are made clear,
And the sea appeareth as a firmament —
Then are they two seas bound up together;
And between them is my heart, a third sea,
Lifting up ever anew my waves of praise.