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Allah Angels bear beauty birth blessed bliss Book breath bright bring Buddha chapter close comes dark dead dear death desire divine doth dream earth entered eyes face fair Faithful fear feet flowers follows four friends gate give glad gods gold golden grace grow hand hath head hear heart heaven Hindu holy hundred India King Korân Krishna leaves light lips live look Lord mind moon night Note once pain passed peace praise pray prayer Prince Radha round sacred seek shining silver soft song soul spake speak spirit spring stars sweet tender thee thine things thou thought thousand touch tree truth turned unto wind wonder worship
Page 165 - Weeping at the feet and head, I can see your falling tears, I can hear your sighs and prayers ; Yet I smile and whisper this, — " / am not the thing you kiss ; Cease your tears, and let it lie ; It was mine, it is not I.
Page 93 - King!" and therewith loosed The victim's bonds, none staying him, so great His presence was. Then, craving leave, he spake Of life, which all can take but none can give, Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep, Wonderful, dear, and pleasant unto each, Even to the meanest; yea, a boon to all Where pity is, for pity makes the world Soft to the weak and noble for the strong.
Page 36 - Northwards soared The stainless ramps of huge Himala's wall, Ranged in white ranks against the blue — untrod, Infinite, wonderful — whose uplands vast. And lifted universe of crest and crag, Shoulder and shelf, green slope and icy horn, Riven ravine, and splintered precipice Led climbing thought higher and higher, until It seemed to stand in heaven and speak with gods.
Page 167 - Ye will wonder why ye wept ; Ye will know, by wise love taught, That here is all, and there is naught. Weep awhile, if ye are fain — Sunshine still must follow rain; Only not at death — for death, Now I know, is that first breath Which our souls draw when we enter Life, which is of all life center. Be ye certain all seems love, Viewed from Allah's throne above; Be ye stout of heart, and come Bravely onward to your home!
Page 124 - tis true, By such light as shines for you ; But in the light ye cannot see Of unfulfilled felicity, In enlarging Paradise, Lives a life that never dies. Farewell, friends ! Yet not farewell ; Where I am, ye too shall dwell. I am gone before your face, A moment's time, a little space. When ye come where I have stepped Ye will wonder why ye wept ; Ye will know, by wise love taught, That here is all, and there is naught.
Page 22 - How salt with sweat the peasant's bread ! how hard The oxen's service ! in the brake how fierce The war of weak and strong ! i' th' air what plots ! No refuge e'en in water. Go aside A space, and let me muse on what ye show." So saying, the good Lord Buddha seated him Under a jambu-tree, with ankles crossed — As holy statues sit — and first began To meditate this deep disease of life, What its far source and whence its remedy. So vast a pity filled him, such wide love For living things, such...
Page 169 - And they held their breath till they left the room, With a shudder, to glance at its stillness and gloom. But he who loved her too well to dread * The sweet, the stately, the beautiful dead, He lit his lamp and took the key And turned it — alone again — he and she. He and she ; but she would not speak, Though he kissed, in the old place, the quiet cheek.
Page 152 - Whose good is quick and mighty, far and near, So that fruits follow it. No need hath such to live as ye name life ; That which began in him when he began Is finished : he hath wrought the purpose through Of what did make him Man.
Page 16 - I know where Krishna tarries in these early days of Spring, When every wind from warm Malay brings fragrance on its wing ; Brings fragrance stolen far away from thickets of the clove, In jungles where the bees hum and the Koil flutes her love ; He dances with the dancers, of a merry morrice one, All in the budding Spring-time, for 'tis sad to be alone. I know how Krishna passes these hours of blue and gold, When parted lovers sigh to meet and greet and closely hold Hand fast in hand ; and every branch...
Page 123 - MANY A HOUSE OF LIFE HATH HELD ME — SEEKING EVER HIM WHO WROUGHT THESE PRISONS OF THE SENSES, SORROW-FRAUGHT; SORE WAS MY CEASELESS STRIFE ! BUT NOW, THOU BUILDER OF THIS TABERNACLE — THOU! I KNOW THEE! NEVER SHALT THOU BUILD AGAIN THESE WALLS OF PAIN, NOR RAISE THE ROOF-TREE OF DECEITS, NOR LAY FRESH RAFTERS ON THE CLAY; BROKEN THY HOUSE is, AND THE RIDGE-POLE SPLIT! DELUSION FASHIONED IT!