Kama (According to one idea Desire is the creator and sustainer of things, - Desire and Ignorance . By losing desire one passes beyond the Ignorance, as by passing beyond Ignorance one loses desire; then the created world is surpassed and the soul enters into the Divine Reality. Kama here speaks as Desire the Creator, an outgoing power from the Bliss of the Divine Reality to which, abandoning desire, one returns, ānandam brahmano vidvān, possessing the bliss of the Brahman.) O desolations vast, O seas of space Unpeopled, realms of an unfertile light, Grow multitudinous with living forms, Enamoured of desire! I send My breath In

III LONGER POEMS THE VIGIL OF THALIARD August 1891 - April 1892 The Vigil of Thaliard 1 Where Time a sleeping dervish is Or printed legend of Romance Mid lilies and mid gold-roses Of mediaeval France, Where Life, a princely servitor Mid alien faces cast, Still wears in memory of her The trappings of the Past, Sweet Lily’s child, that golden grape Girl prince of Avelion, Thaliard by early plucking hap Star-reaching Prince’s son, Kept vigil by the impious pool Beyond the misty moaning sea To win from warlock’s weird misrule His soul’s sweet liberty.

O Coil, Coil O coil, honied envoy of the spring, Cease thy too happy voice, grief's record, cease: For I recall that day of vernal trees, The soft asoca’s bloom, the laden winds And green felicity of leaves, the hush, The sense of Nature living in the woods. Only the river rippled, only hummed The languid murmuring bee, far-borne and slow, Emparadised in odours, only used The ringdove his divine heart-moving speech; But sweetest to my pleased and singing heart Thy voice, O coil, in the peepel tree. O me! for pleasure turned to bitterest tears! O me! for the swift joy, too great to live, That only bloomed one hour! O wondrous

ILION An Epic in Quantitative Hexameters BOOK ONE The Book of the Herald Dawn in her journey eternal compelling the labour of mortals, Dawn the beginner of things with the night for their rest or their ending, Pallid and bright-lipped arrived from the mists and the chill of the Euxine. Earth in the dawn-fire delivered from starry and shadowy vastness Woke to the wonder of life and its passion and sorrow and beauty, All on her bosom sustaining, the patient compassionate Mother. Out of the formless vision of Night with its look on things hidden Given to the gaze of the azure she lay in her garment of greenness, Wearing light on her b

Songs to Myrtilla GLAUCUS Sweet is the night, sweet and cool As to parched lips a running pool; Sweet when the flowers have fallen asleep And only moonlit rivulets creep Like glow-worms in the dim and whispering wood, To commune with the quiet heart and solitude. When earth is full of whispers, when No daily voice is heard of men, But higher audience brings The footsteps of invisible things, When o’er the glimmering tree-tops bowed The night is leaning on a luminous cloud, And always a melodious breeze Sings secret in the weird and charmed trees, Pleasant ’tis then heart-overawed to lie Alone with that clear moonlight and that listening sky.

The Guest I have discovered my deep deathless being: Masked by my front of mind, immense, serene It meets the world with an Immortal’s seeing, A god-spectator of the human scene. No pain and sorrow of the heart and flesh Can tread that pure and voiceless sanctuary. Danger and fear, Fate’s hounds, slipping their leash Rend body and nerve, - the timeless Spirit is free. Awake, God’s ray and witness in my breast, In the undying substance of my soul Flamelike, inscrutable the almighty Guest. Death nearer comes and Destiny takes her toll; He hears the blows that shatter Nature’s house: Calm sits he, f

Parabrahman These wanderings of the suns, these stars at play In the due measure that they chose of old, Nor only these, but all the immense array Of objects that long Time, far Space can hold, Are divine moments. They are thoughts that form, They are vision in the Self of things august And therefore grandly real. Rule and norm Are processes that they themselves adjust. The Self of things is not their outward view, A Force within decides. That Force is He; His movement is the shape of things we knew, Movement of Thought is Space and Time. A free And sovereign master of His world within, He is not boun

Love and Death In woodlands of the bright and early world, When love was to himself yet new and warm And stainless, played like morning with a flower Ruru with his young bride Priyumvada. Fresh-cheeked and dew-eyed white Priyumvada . Opened her budded heart of crimson bloom To love, to Ruru; Ruru, a happy flood Of passion round a lotus dancing thrilled, Blinded with his soul's waves Priyumvada. To him the earth was a bed for this sole flower, To her all the world was filled with his embrace. Wet with new rains the morning earth, released From her fierce centuries and burning suns, Lavished her breath in greenness; poignant f

Bankim Chandra Chatterji How hast thou lost, O month of honey and flowers, The voice that was thy soul! Creative showers, The cuckoo's daylong cry and moan of bees, Zephyrs and streams and softly-blossoming trees And murmuring laughter and heart-easing tears And tender thoughts and great and the compeers Of lily and jasmine and melodious birds, All these thy children into lovely words He changed at will and made soul-moving books From hearts of men and women's honied looks. O master of delicious words! the bloom Of chompuk and the breath of king-perfume Have made each musical sentence with the noi

The Island Sun I have sailed the golden ocean And crossed the silver bar; I have reached the Sun of knowledge The earth-self ’s midnight star. Its fields of flaming vision, Its mountains of bare might, Its peaks of fiery rapture, Its air of absolute light, Its seas of self-oblivion, Its vales of Titan rest, Became my soul’s dominion, Its Island Blest. Alone with God and silence, Timeless it lived in Time; Life was His fugue of music, Thought was Truth’s ardent rhyme. The Light was still around me When I came back to earth Bringing the Immortal’s knowledge Into man’s cave of birth. Page-106