The poor of wit have pains to see it,
But to the wise well it is known.
So too is fire fixed fast in water,
And in the stones still it lurks
'Tis hard to see, 'tis there, however.
The Father of angels has bound the fire
So fast and firmly that it cannot fly
Again to the region where the rest of the fire
High over this world in its home dwells.
Soon it forsakes this frail creation,
Overcome by cold, if it seeks its country
Yet every creature craves to go
Where its kin it finds most crowded together.
You have established through Your strong might,
King of war-hosts, in wondrous wise
The earth so firmly that she inclines
Nought to one side, nor may she sink
This way nor that way more than she was wont,
By nought upheld of earthly nature.
It is equally easy upward or downward
For this earth of men to move at will;
This is most like to an egg, where lies
The yolk in the middle, yet the shell moves
Around outside; so stands the world
Still in its station with the streams round it,
The stirring floods, the air and stars,
While the gleaming shell round all glides
Every day, and long has done so.
O God of the nations! of threefold nature
A soul You have given us, that You since
