Brain-markets   Ah, will you call all crazy vendors To markets of the cluttered brain, Now giddy with magician splendours, Now drawing from a dirty drain?   What will they buy, what will they sell, Here in the world's exchange and mart? Drive bargains hard for heaven or hell, Lay dizzy prices on the heart?   Here throng the crowds of fairy dreams, And jostling thoughts, insistent wills; Desire's high-pitched voice here screams, Black money flows for smuggled ills.   There's just one treasure worth your buying, Beyond all splendours you may find, Within the tumult and the crying — The silence of the sunlit mind

Spell   My dear, don't ever talk like this: Is it not time to understand That in this poor queer world our bliss Is not within our hand?   Why should we torture so our heart, Repeating endlessly the spell, When all its magic, all its art, Opens a deeper hell?   Unweave the incantation's power  Before its fire touch the brain, Be still within the starlit hour, And let Truth heal our pain. Page-42

Beyond the Nights   O Sun, beyond the silent nights of loneliness, Illume the pallid wandering sight's groping distress.   Sharp spears of light, fire-rods swift leap down darkness' brain, Pierce through the heavy clouds of sleep, bring inward rain.   Stretch forth Your hand of power and take my fumbling hand; Hold fast till the child-heart awake and understand. Page-110

Golden Rain   Ever your nectared glory drips  Its shining gold apocalypse Through the rock-roofs of agelong sleep;  Empooled within the heart's lone cave,  Its joy-streams gather wave on wave, Far wisdoms of your plumbless deep.   For ever pours the golden rain Within the blue lakes of the brain Its strange, entranced magic lore; The great white swans descend from high Within the spirit's vaulted sky, And nestle on its star-pearl shore.   Wild gleaming cascades of delight Drop headlong from the zenithed height Empowered sun-truths, moons of grace; And all the splendour, triumph, power,  Is gathered to a mystic flower

The Heart-stone   Entombed in pitiless dark the years move slow; God knows we're taught to die! in agony The whirlpool mind throws up unceasingly The same old idiocies stored far below. The heart's a stone; could love's rose streamlets flow From mouths of rock and sand? could music be Found in the burial-place of memory? — It's death by inches, as was said long ago.   And yet not death; for still all through the night A strange breath passes down the tunnelled hill; And deep within the heart-stone burns a light, A jewel-flame; the sarcophagi hold A million suns; the tomb-robbers' blackest skill Could not break through and

Without You   In this night of passing shadows, This phantom world of gleams untrue, And labyrinths and crooked pathways, How would I manage without You?   I cannot take a step in music, Cannot climb my daily stair, Or think or move to any purpose But because You are always there.   How strangely helpless is my being Without You; not a turn I take, Or aught I do can issue rightly, If it be not for Your sake.   What is this I? a nought, a silence, A shadow in a world of shades, Unreal like the glimmering figures That walk the wall in masquerades. Page-113

Truth   I do not try to cheat or please, For He knows, He knows; The little honey-gathering bees Do not cheat the rose.   Before Him, there's nor lie nor pose, Who is Truth and Light: The pureness of His touch bestows Vision on my night. Page-21

Two Words   Fold not your speech in wandering cloaks That float upon the winds and sigh, Their liberty is but a hoax, And false, wild freedoms murmuring die.   Tell not your tale to busy ears That hum with drum and mandolin, But only when the deep heart hears, Allow your word to trickle in.   Two words are there: one's the penned scroll And floral manuscript men see; The other burns within the soul, A fire of God, an alchemy.   The scriptures of the world lie writ Within our vaults, unseen, unheard; And still Truth's oracle must sit In caverns dark to speak her Word. Page-158

New Radiance   ...And look, see all: The violet lights that play Upon the hills of yesterday; And today's pink-white dawn, Opening of all roses.   But ever onward stream the golden lights of a future day: shafts of power piercing to the earth's core, vertical descent of divinity deep, far and deep, into earth's core: shells of the sun exploding over the nights of earth, new radiance blasting dead clay.   Broken matter bespatters the stars, The nights in fury arise, becloud the skies. Only the hidden sun-power's pressure, only earth's humble heart of gathering gravitation, silently, invisibly sav

Darshan Day   Are these but vacant thrones or are you there As once of old, when Love resplendent filled All hearts with glory, and pure light distilled The essences of beauty in the air? In silent earnestness we wait and stare, Empty of vision, in dream-darkness chilled, Where vague imaginings gather and gild Pale hopes hanging on nails of sharp despair. — Oh, are you there? Heart after heart still cries The question, as the cold procession winds Past; but through the black pain burst sparked replies: And some, rapt high, see splendid forms divine, Another, swiftly swirling inward finds You seated, lovely, in his own pure shrine.