My fond young wife, oh fare-ye-well,
I leave your side to come again,
A sage of sages, king of kings,
This holy hour tho’full of pain.
This palace vast is small to me,
I cannot breathe nor lie at rest,
The vaster world bids me to leave,
This vanity for what is best.
So fare thee well, my only son,
Reclining in the mother’s arms,
I go to build the realm of truth,
Hence leave I all with folded palms.
And mount my horse, and fly thro’s Time,
To conquer pain and birth and death,
To find a way to reach that bliss,
I leave behind this passing wealth!
(repeat the first verse)
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