In the Sanctum Sanctorum

If in the past I have honoured thee
Too seldom when the hurrying feet of life

And the relentless pace of restless will

Have overwhelmed my soul or inner strife

Darkened the luminous glass in which to see

The image of the one who is my guide,

If the sense of separate self has blinded me

And to desire's cravings I complied,

Thou who are forgiveness and all love

Patient as the charioteer of earth

Who sanctifies with blazing hues of day,

Know my failings and account my worth

And in the sanctum sanctorum sit and wait

Unseen but felt as with the inward turn

All becomes a sacrificial rite

Where day and night the inner fires burn.