Alas For Those Who Spend Their Days

Alas
for those who spend their days In festive mirth and joy. The dazzling, deadly, liquid forms Their hearts fore'er employ.

The shining bottles charm their
eyes And draw their heart's embrace;
The slaves of wine can never
rise From what we call disgrace.

Was man intended to be A brute
in work and heart? Should man,
the Lord of all around, From common sense depart?

Man's glory is in common sense Dictating us the grace,
That man is made to live and love
The beauteous Heaven's embrace.

The flesh is not our own alas; The mortal frame a chain;
The soul confined for former
wrongs Should try to rise again.

Why then this childish play in
that Which cannot be our own;
Which falls within a hundred years As if a rose ablown.

Our life is but a rosy hue To go ere long for naught;
The soul alone would last fore'er
With good or evil fraught.

How deep the thought of times to be! How grave
the aspect looks! And wrapt in awe become,
O, we, When reading Nature's books.

Man's life to him a problem dark
- A screen both left and right;
No soul hath come to tell us what Exists beyond our sight.

But then a voice, how deep and soft;
Within ourselves is left;
Man! Man! Thou art immortal
soul! Thee Death can never melt.

For Thee Thy Sire on High has kept A store of bliss above,
To end of time,
thou art Oh! His - Who wants but purest love.

O Love! Thy power and spell
benign Now melt my soul to God;
How can my earthly words describe
That feeling soft and broad.

Enjoyment,
sorrow - what but lots To which the flesh is heir? The
soul that sleeps alone concludes In them it hath a share.

And then, my friends,
no more enjoy Nor weep for all below; The women, wine,
and flesh of beasts No love on thee bestow.

But thine to love thy brother man And give thyself to God,
And God doth know your wages fair
- This fact is true and broad.

Forget the past that sleeps and
ne'er The future dream at all
But act in times that are with
thee And progress thee shall call.

But tell me not in reasoning cold,
The soul is made alone By earth's mechanic
lifeless rules And to destruction prone.

My God who gave us life and all Alone the soul can kill
Or give it all the joys above His promise to fulfill.

So push thy onward march, O soul,
Against an evil deed That stands with
soldiers Hate and Lust - A hero be indeed.

Maintain thy post in spirit world As firmly as you can
Let never matter push thee down - O stand heroic man.

O Sharagrahi Vaisnava soul Thou art an angel fair; Lead,
lead me on to Vrndaban And spirit's power declare.

There rests my soul from matter free Upon my Lover's arms
Eternal peace and spirits love Are all my chanting charms.