On the Flightiness of Thought

Shame to my thoughts, how they stray from me!
I fear great danger from it on the day of eternal Doom.

During the psalms they wander on a path that is not right:
They fash, they fret, they misbehave before the eyes of great God.

Through eager crowds, through companies of wanton women,
Through woods, through cities—swifter they are than the wind.

Now through paths of loveliness, anon of riotous shame!

Without a ferry or ever missing a step they go across every sea:
Swiftly they leap in one bound from earth to heaven.

They run a race of folly anear and afar:
After a course of giddiness they return to their home.

Though one should try to bind them or put shackles on their feet,
They are neither constant nor mindful to take a spell of rest.

Neither sword-edge nor crack of whip will keep them down strongly:
As slippery as an eel’s tail they glide out of my grasp.

Neither lock nor firm-vaulted dungeon nor any fetter on earth,
Stronghold nor sea nor bleak fastness restrains them from their course.

O beloved truly chaste Christ to whom every eye is clear,
May the grace of the seven-fold Spirit come to keep them, to check them!

Rule this heart of mine, O dread God of the elements,
That Thou mayst be my love, that I may do Thy will.

That I may reach Christ with His chosen companions, that we may be together!
They are neither fickle nor inconstant—not as I am.