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At the Feet of The Mother

Because Thou Art

Because Thou art All-beauty and All-bliss,
My soul blind and enamoured yearns for Thee;
It bears Thy mystic touch in all that is
And thrills with the burden of that ecstasy.

Behind all eyes I meet Thy secret gaze
And in each voice I hear Thy magic tune:
Thy sweetness hunts my heart through Nature’s ways;
Nowhere it beats now from Thy snare immune.

It loves Thy body in all living things;
Thy joy is there in every leaf and stone:
The moments bring Thee on their fiery wings;
Sight’s endless artistry is Thou alone.

Time voyages with Thee upon its prow, —
And all the future’s passionate hope is Thou.


Notes on Text
25 October 1939. Three handwritten manuscripts, all untitled.

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