O Christians, arrogant, exhausted, wretched,Whose intellects are sick and cannot see,Who place your confidence in backward steps,Do you not know that we are worms and bornTo form the angelic butterfly that soars,Without defenses, to confront His judgment?Why does your mind presume to flight when youAre still like the imperfect grub, the wormBefore it has attained its final form?
O Christians, arrogant, exhausted, wretched,Whose intellects are sick and cannot see,Who place your confidence in backward steps, Do you not know that we are worms and bornTo form the angelic butterfly that soars,Without defenses, to confront His judgment? Why does your mind presume to flight when youAre still like the imperfect grub, the wormBefore it has attained its final form?
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