SACHCHIDANANDA
O I would find the truth way
That leads to Thee
From the outward shores of silver
To the Ultimate Sea.
O I would hear the fire-speech"
That echoes Thee
And pens in flaming ramparts
Each galaxy.
O I would rock the infant
Born with each world—
Feel the fingers of Beauty
On my finger curled.
July 2,1934.
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