The taste of the forbidden fruit is sweet But like the serpent's fangs leads to an end Of bitterness and the crime of love's deceit And in the darkness lonely days portend. And yet the vital ego fulfilling desire Recks not the cost nor the pangs of grief Of those who have felt the sacred living fire Whisked away like the fingers of a thief. When shall we baring self allow the soul To lead the pilgrimage and set the path Surrender to its singular control Obliterating falsehood and its wrath, The many faults that we must expiate And in humility find our sanctioned state.
Poems Undated (1727)
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Narad
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