IT MAYBE THAT your loved ones will forsake you, but mind it not, my heart.

It may be that the creeper of your hope will be laid low in the

dust all torn, its fruits wasted,but mind it not, my heart

It may be that the dark night will overtake you before you reach

the gate, and your attempts will ever be in vain to light your lamp.

When you tune your harp, the birds and the beasts of the

wilderness will flock around you. It may be that your brothers will remain unmoved,

but mind it not, my heart.

The walls are of stones, the doors barred. It may be that you

will knock oft and again, yet it will not open, but mind it not, my heart.