“Forth from the hand of Him, who fondles it

Before it is, like to a little girl

Weeping and laughing in her childish sport,

Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows,

Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker,

Gladly it turns to that which gives it pleasure.”

“Forth from the hand of Him, who fondles it Before it is, like to a little girl Weeping and laughing in her childish sport, Issues the simple soul, that nothing knows, Save that, proceeding from a joyous Maker, Gladly it turns to that which gives it pleasure.”