No merit can be held so high
As theirs who sense and self deny.
To con ascetic glory here
Is to count the dead upon the sphere.
No lustre can with theirs compare
Who know the right and virtue wear.
With hook of firmness to restrain
The senses five, is heaven to gain.
Indra himself has cause to say
How great the power ascetics, sway.
The small the paths of ease pursue
The great achieve things rare to do.
They gain the world, who grasp and tell
Of taste, sight, hearing, touch and smell.
Full-worded men by what they say,
Their greatness to the world display.
Their wrath, who've climbed the mount of good
Though transient, cannot be withstood.
With gentle mercy towards all,
The sage fulfill the virtue's call.
THE MERIT OF ASCETICS
