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At the Feet of The Mother

Divine Sense

Surely I take no more an earthly food
But eat the fruits and plants of Paradise!
For Thou hast changed my sense’s habitude
From mortal pleasure to divine surprise.

Hearing and sight are now an ecstasy,
And all the fragrances of earth disclose
A sweetness matching in intensity
Odour of the crimson marvel of the rose.

In every contact’s deep invading thrill,
That lasts as if its source were infinite,
I feel Thy touch; Thy bliss imperishable
Is crowded into that moment of delight.

The body burns with Thy rapture’s sacred fire,
Pure, passionate, holy, virgin of desire.


Notes on Text
1 November 1939. Three handwritten manuscripts.

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