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GURUDEVA SMRIT GRANTHA
"A thing which seems seoses charming Is of a matter, a container, Impregnant with the load divine Of Beauty but unsubstantial •
be draws a draught of sacred Love Like cosmopolitan, fluttering dove Cooes in each heart with mystic tone Apparelled in rosy hue, soaring Till the last point of Heaven, But as a prey of cruel fate Unto a heavy, mighty pressure Of stormy Lust, That darling Love doth fall down On stern ground, And taketh breathings last, expire. That cruel lust, Who brings up monstrous Violence ; With his fierce eyes but darkısh red Holding a sharp edged, long, curbed, sword, In bands blood besmeard, Doth hew the corpse of feebleness Though tender, sweet and chaste in form, To crush its tyrannous chaos, From distant lofty tower of Blue. Mighty trumpet blows, mighty Truth, Resounding deep dales of wisdom : Infuseth the spirit of zeal In hearts of slumbering Non-Violence, She want forward And encountered Her foe; Ah, she came out victorious glad I Melting the stone like his heart In a heap of low lying sand smooth.
