draw Text for all wants from tank of Holy Writ. But thou, want not! ask not! Find full reward Of doing right in right! Let right deeds be Thy motive, not the fruit which comes from them. And live in action! Labour! Make thine acts Thy piety, casting all self aside, Contemning gain and merit; equable In good or evil: equability Is Yog, is piety!
Yet, the right act Is less, far less, than the right-thinking mind. Seek refuge in thy soul; have there thy heaven! Scorn them that follow virtue for her gifts! The mind of pure devotion--even here-- Casts equally aside good deeds and bad, Passing above them. Unto pure devotion Devote thyself: with perfect meditation Comes perfect act, and the right-hearted rise-- More certainly because they seek no gain-- Forth from the bands of body, step by step, To highest seats of bliss. When thy firm soul Hath shaken off those tangled oracles Which ignorantly guide, then shall it soar To high neglect of what's denied or said, This way or that way, in doctrinal writ. Troubled no longer by the priestly lore, Safe shall it live, and sure; steadfastly bent On meditation. This is Yog--and Peace!
Arjuna. What is his mark who hath that steadfast heart, Confirmed in holy meditation? How Know we his speech, Kesava? Sits he, moves he Like other men?
Krishna. When one, O Pritha's Son! Abandoning desires which shake the mind-- Finds in his soul full comfort for his soul, He hath attained the Yog--that man is such! In sorrows not dejected, and in joys Not overjoyed; dwelling outside the stress Of passion, fear, and anger; fixed in calms Of lofty contemplation;--such an one Is Muni, is the Sage, the true Recluse! He who to none and nowhere overbound By ties of flesh, takes evil things and good Neither desponding nor exulting, such Bears wisdom's plainest mark! He who shall draw As the wise tortoise draws its four feet safe Under its shield, his five frail senses back Under the spirit's buckler from the world Which else assails them, such an one, my Prince! Hath wisdom's mark! Things that solicit sense Hold off from the self-governed; nay, it comes, The appetites of him who lives beyond Depart,--aroused no more. Yet may it chance, O Son of Kunti! that a governed mind Shall some time feel the sense-storms sweep, and wrest Strong self-control by the roots. Let him regain His kingdom! let him conquer this, and sit On Me intent. That man alone is wise Who keeps the mastery of himself! If one Ponders on objects of the sense, there springs Attraction; from attraction grows desire, Desire flames to fierce passion, passion breeds Recklessness; then the memory--all betrayed-- Lets noble purpose go, and saps the mind, Till purpose, mind, and man are all undone. But, if one deals with objects of the sense Not loving and not hating, making them Serve his free soul, which rests serenely lord, Lo! such a man comes to tranquillity; And out of that tranquillity shall rise The end and healing of his earthly pains, Since the will governed sets the soul at peace. The soul of the ungoverned is not his, Nor hath he knowledge of himself; which lacked, How grows serenity? and, wanting that, Whence shall he hope for happiness?
The mind That gives itself to follow shows of sense Seeth its helm of wisdom rent away, And, like a ship in waves of whirlwind, drives To wreck and death. Only with him, great Prince! Whose senses are not swayed by things of sense-- Only with him who holds his mastery, Shows wisdom perfect. What is midnight-gloom To unenlightened souls shines wakeful day To his clear gaze; what seems as wakeful day Is known for night, thick night of ignorance, To his true-seeing eyes. Such is the Saint!
And like the ocean, day by day receiving Floods from all lands, which never overflows Its boundary-line not leaping, and not leaving, Fed by the rivers, but unswelled by those;--
So is the perfect one! to his soul's ocean The world of sense pours streams of witchery; They leave him as they find, without commotion, Taking their tribute, but remaining sea.
Yea! whoso, shaking off the yoke of flesh Lives lord, not servant, of his lusts; set free From pride, from passion, from the sin of "Self," Toucheth tranquillity! O Pritha's Son! That is the state of Brahm! There rests no dread When that last step is reached! Live where he will, Die when he may, such passeth from all 'plaining, To blest Nirvana, with the Gods, attaining.
HERE ENDETH CHAPTER II. OF THE BHAGAVAD-GITA, Entitled "Sankhya-Yog," Or "The Book of Doctrines."
CHAPTER III
Arjuna. Thou whom all mortals praise, Janardana! If meditation be a nobler thing Than action, wherefore, then, great Kesava! Dost thou impel me to
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