In the early morning
I worship him who is beyond all thought and speech,
Yet by whose grace all speech is uttered
I worship him of whom the Scriptures say
That he shall not be limited by words
I worship him whom ancient sages name
The God of gods,
Him the unborn,
Him the perfect,
Him the source of all
In the early morning
I bow to him who dwelleth beyond darkness,
Who shineth as the sun:
I worship him who is perfection,
Him, entitled anciently the Wholly Good:
In him,
We, peering through this veil of darkness,
Imagine that we see the universe brought forth,
Even as, in darkness,
Men think a rope a snake.
rcm
tulasi.
Grant me, O Master, by Thy grace
To follow all the good and pure:
To be content with simple things;
To use my fellows not as means but ends:
To serve them stalwartly, in thought, word, deed;
Never to utter word of hatred or of shame:
To cast away all selfishness and pride:
To speak no ill of others:
To have a mind at peace,
Set free from care, and led astray from Thee
Neither by happiness nor by woe:
Set Thou my feet upon this path,
And keep me steadfast in it,
Thus only shall I please Thee, serve Thee right.
This and this alone
Is true religion-
To serve Thy brethren:
This is sin above all other sin,
To harm Thy brethren:
In such a faith is happiness,
In lack of it is misery and pain:
Blessed is he who swerveth not aside
From this straight path:
Blessed is he whose life is lived
Thus ceaselessly in serving God:
By bearing others' burdens,
And so alone,
Is life, true life, to be attained:
Nothing is hard to him who, casting self aside,
Thinks only this-
How may I serve fellow-men?
When the heart is hard and parched up, come upon me
with a shower of mercy.
When grace is lost from life, come with a burst of song.
When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting
me out from beyond, come to me, my lord of silence,
with thy peace and rest..
When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner,
break open the door, my kind, and come with the ceremony of a king.
When desire blinds the mind with delusion and dust,
O thou holy one, thou wakeful, come with thy light and thy thunder.
- Rabindranath Tagore ( Gitanjali, No.39)
Here is thy footstool and there rest thy feet where live
the
poorest and lowliest and lost.
When I try to bow to there, my obeisance cannot reach down to the depth where
thy feet rest among the poorest and lowliest and lost.
Pride can never approach to where thou walkest in the
clothes of the humble among the poorest, and lowliest and lost.
My heart can never find its way to where thou keepest
company with the companionless among the poorest, the lowliest and the lost.
