Lord of Life a new millennium dawns, A thousand pilgrims tread the winding stairs To bow from some deep reverence of soul Before Thy feet and place such worldly cares As beset the troubled heart, obscure the goal. No sound is heard but the music of anklet bells, Sari's swirl and the sharp intake of breath In this quickened atmosphere where life and death Are facets of the wakened soul's increase; For in this hallowed room the presence dwells And here our human fears and failings cease. By Thee the darkness dies to deathless morns To imprint forever in the memory of our race The grandeur and compassion on Thy face.
Poems Undated (1727)
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