The seed of Godhead sleeps in mortal hearts, The flower of Godhead grows on the world-tree: All shall discover God in self and things, But when God’s messenger comes to help the world And lead the soul of earth to higher things, He too must carry the yoke he came to unloose; He too must bear the pang that he would heal: Exempt and unafflicted by earth’s fate, How shall he cure the ills he never felt?
