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A destiny of godhead which already Was imaged through his presence. ...
"I will starve" He said, "and yet, my footfalls shall be steady Along this obstinate journey I have chosen... Nothing, in this ephemeral world, shall cozen, No self-persuasion; no compelling force, These feet to alter their decided course. Yea ! I shall starve, by way of discipline, To rouse the drowsed magnificence within. I shall pursue my goal; I shall not tire Of going through the cruel test of fire Which my ordeal is.. I shall not rest Until I have gone through the master-test, Of my resolve.....
Behold ! Mahavir was Even as a listening, illumined pause. Four months had passed; man's calendar stood beaten While dates of passing days began to bleed, Since not one morsel had Mahavir eaten, The Golden Lord born of ascetic breed ! Breathing of abstinence and penance, such As was a fire to extinguish fire. Naught on the earth could break his oath or touch His obstinate heart with undivine desire. Now while he walked he seemed a funeral-pyre Consuming his own body; yet his will Continued all unbroken, rooted deep Like to a tranquil heaven-aspiring hill Vigilant in a world of dreamless sleep. The teeming town, the greatest and the least,
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