He is a bird round which a trap closes,
He is a leaky ship in perilous danger,
He is an empty vessel, a withered tree,
Who doth not the will of the King above.
He is a fragrant branch with its blossom,
He is a vessel full of honey,
He is a precious stone with its virtue,
Whoso doth the will of God's Son from Heaven.
He is a blind nut in which there is no good,
He is a stinking rottenness, a withered tree,
He is a branch of a blossomless crab-apple,
Whoso doth not the will of the King.
Whoso doth the will of God's Son from Heaven
Is a brilliant summer-sun,
Is a daïs of God of Heaven,
Is a pure crystalline vessel.
He is a victorious racehorse over a smooth plain,
The man that striveth after the Kingdom of great
God;
He is a chariot that is seen
Under a triumphant king.
He is a sun that warms holy Heaven,
A man with whom the Great King is pleased,
He is a temple blessed, noble,
He is a holy shrine bedecked with gold.
He is an altar on which wine is dealt,
Round which a multitude of melodies is sung,
He is a cleansed chalice with liquor,
He is fair white bronze, he is gold.
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