A dream of Yitzhak, son of David, son of Gershon, son of Kos ha Levi. A dream of the Garden. Too weary, awake, I dreamed a hill of the Garden, Rising steeply, Crowned by groves Which sparkle in sunlight Beyond my reach Pleasant paths before me Sweet fruits at hand to savor I trod the valley Trying not to see The heights I could not reach Gentle Lord, I cried, Why tempt me? Let me rest Content with what I have. Please take your glory from my sight Or surely I must die No answer came. I sat, I wept, And still The heights I could not reach, The path too steep Was there. And if I die, my Lord, Will heights like these be mine? Will others know a greater joy For what I sacrifice? No answer came. But paths of thorns, The end Was plain to see. The choice was mine, To live as less Or die for more. Weary, sore, beyond despair, I could not choose, Just sit and weep For heights I could not reach and live ... For heights I could not reach and live ... Then let me climb until I die And leave the paths of thorns, The pleasant paths behind And living strive for heights I cannot reach And as I climbed Sweet scents from groves above Brought dreams of flight And helped me rise Until I found myself In strength ascending Far beyond the meagre limits I had thought my bounds And reached the heights, the groves, the fruits And found with joy a mountain Far steeper than the hill And praised the Lord For Ways He gives To strive and live In beauty and with joy.