Meter 22

He that desireth the Right in due measure,

In its inner nature anxious to track,
And know it fully so that none be able
To drive it out, nor anything earthly
Have power to hinder : first him behoveth
In his own soul to seek what he earlier
During a season sought from without.

Then let him bring it forth from his bosom,
And leave behind, as long as he may,
Every sorrow that serveth for nought ;
And let him muster with might and with main
Each thought within him to that end only.
Let him say to his mind, that it may find
Within itself only all that it now
Oftenest seeketh ever outside,
Every goodness. Then he getteth to know
Things evil and idle, all that he had,
Hid in his bosom so long before,
Even as clearly as he can the sun ;
Behold with the eyes of this present body ;
And he moreover his mind perceiveth
Lighter and brighter than is the beaming
Of the sun in summer, when the sky’s jewel,
Sheer orb of heaven, shineth brightest.
So neither the sins nor sloth of the body,

Nor its foul vices, are fully able
To wrest from the mind its righteous nature
In any mortal. Though that a man
By the sins of his body, and by its sloth also,
And by vice be assailed for many a season,
And though that his mind be grievously marred
With the foul curse of careless folly,
And a fog of error float before
The dreary spirit of the sons of men,
So that it cannot shine at all so clearly
As it would do if it were able,
Yet there remaineth ever retainéd
Some seed of the truth in the soul of man,
So long as united it liveth with body.
This corn of seed is ever quickened
By means of inquiry, and afterwards also
With good teaching, if it is to grow.
How may any man make out an answer

To anything asked, by aid of reason,
Though others ask him after it righteously,
Closely inquiring, if he containeth

In his own mind neither much nor little
Of righteousness in him nor aught of reason ?
Yet no man liveth that is so lacking,
So utterly reft and void of reason,
That he is unable the answer to find
Locked in his breast if others beg him.
For this is sooth, the saw that our Plato,
The ancient sage, once said unto us:
‘Each man,’ he said, ‘that is unmindful,
Of righteousness careless, him I counsel
Again to turn him towards his thoughts,
His mind’s fancy ; then will he not fail
In his own bosom, buried deeply,
To find in his spirit righteousness sealed,
Amid the turmoil which ever troubleth
His mind daily most and sorest,

And the heavy sloth that hampereth his body,
And the heavy cares that quell a man
In mind and in spirit at every season.’