24.10.24
If I might rise a little higher And know myself a part of Thee Quell the imputs of desire, Still the mind to honour thee, I would slowly rise above The ignorance of mortal life, Truly feel thy touch of love Ending all the inner strife That for ages inhibited The rising of the soul, the free Devotion, not the mad instead, Becoming then a child of thee.
Poems 2024 (691)
Home
Disciples
Narad
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.