By all means they try to hold me secure who love me in this world.
But it is otherwise with thy love which is greater than theirs, and thou keepest me free.
Lest I forget them they never venture to leave me alone. But day passes by after day and thou art not seen.
If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart, thy love for me still waits for my love.
XXXV
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow
domestic walls;
domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought
and action—
and action—
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.
XXXVI
This is my prayer to thee, my lord—strike, strike at the root of penury
in my heart.
in my heart.
Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.
Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.
Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees
before insolent might.
before insolent might.
Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.
And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with
love.
love.
XXXVIII
That I want thee, only thee—let my heart repeat without end. All
desires that distract me, day and night, are false and empty to the
core.
desires that distract me, day and night, are false and empty to the
core.
As the night keeps hidden in its gloom the petition for light, even
thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry—“I want thee,
only thee.”
thus in the depth of my unconsciousness rings the cry—“I want thee,
only thee.”
As the storm still seeks its end in peace when it strikes against
peace with all its might, even thus my rebellion strikes against thy
love and still its cry is—“I want thee, only thee.”
peace with all its might, even thus my rebellion strikes against thy
love and still its cry is—“I want thee, only thee.”
XXXIX
When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me with a
shower of mercy.
shower of mercy.
When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song.
When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out
from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and
rest.
from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and
rest.
When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner, break
open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.
open the door, my king, and come with the ceremony of a king.
When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust, O thou holy
one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.
one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.
XL
The rain has held back for days and days, my God, in my arid
heart. The horizon is fiercely naked—not the thinnest cover of a
soft cloud, not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower.
heart. The horizon is fiercely naked—not the thinnest cover of a
soft cloud, not the vaguest hint of a distant cool shower.
Send thy angry storm, dark with death, if it is thy wish, and with
lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end.
lashes of lightning startle the sky from end to end.
But call back, my lord, call back this pervading silent heat, still
and keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair.
and keen and cruel, burning the heart with dire despair.
Let the cloud of grace bend low from above like the tearful look
of the mother on the day of the father’s wrath.
of the mother on the day of the father’s wrath.
LXX
Is it beyond thee to be glad with the gladness of this rhythm? to be
tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful joy?
tossed and lost and broken in the whirl of this fearful joy?
All things rush on, they stop not, they look not behind, no power
can hold them back, they rush on.
Keeping steps with that restless, rapid music, seasons come dancing
and pass away—colours, tunes, and perfumes pour in endless
cascades in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies
every moment.
can hold them back, they rush on.
Keeping steps with that restless, rapid music, seasons come dancing
and pass away—colours, tunes, and perfumes pour in endless
cascades in the abounding joy that scatters and gives up and dies
every moment.
LXXII
He it is, the innermost one, who awakens my being with his deep
hidden touches.
hidden touches.
He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes and joyfully
plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and
pain.
plays on the chords of my heart in varied cadence of pleasure and
pain.
He it is who weaves the web of this maya in evanescent hues of
gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds
his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
gold and silver, blue and green, and lets peep out through the folds
his feet, at whose touch I forget myself.
Days come and ages pass, and it is ever he who moves my heart
in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of
sorrow.
in many a name, in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of
sorrow.
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