37. Immanent Thou, transcendent Thou
And essence Pure, in all,
Boundless and free and Self-create
You have been aye the same-
The everlasting Aye.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
38. Thou art where even space is not,
Thou went when time was not,
Who can see Thy start, or present form or end
When start-and-end, or space-and-time
Are all contained in Thee?
And smaller, finer than the finest
Whether matter, mind or life
Or even a thought’s faintest wavelet,
Who can know Thy source,
O! Mystery Divine!
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
39. No birth hast Thou, no age, no death
Oh! Perfection, Life and Light!
No ripple of thought or speech or act
Can ever ruffle thee
Though passive yet, Thou rulest the worlds
And Order e’er prevails.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
40. Was there a day when Thou wert not?
Is there a place devoid of Thee?
Is there a thing, a life, a thought
Which is unborn in Thee?
All-Love, All-Joy, All-Mercy, Thou;
What Thou art not is naught.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
41. If there’s a thing that always is,
That knows no end or change,
If there is a thing in all these worlds
That’s worth a thought and love.
It’s always only thou.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
42. Within Thee creation starts and thrives
And has its day and ends.
Thou art the hidden innermost Self
Of all that is glorious, great.
Thou the Light of myriad suns
And darkness of the End.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
43. The purest, selfless Being Thou
Among the wise and pure;
Of woman’s virtues, Thou art the heart—
As love and grace and art,
Silent suffering, memory sharp,
Intellect, faith divine.
Thou art the one eternal 1Om
Wherein is language born.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
44. Thou art the Store, from which is gained
Knowledge, mundane or divine;
And Thou the crowning sacrified
Of incantation.
Thou art the death of Death Himself,
And end of even Time.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
1 The name of the Word.
45. Within Thee is wisdom, science and art,
And spiritual Vision, too
Within Thee is the seed,
From which do spring
All living beings and things.
Time cannot destroy or even rust
Thy Being ever fresh.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
46. Bhakta’s adoration thou
And Jnani’s wisdom too
Thou art that meditation itself
Which is Yogi’s only love.
Thou art the hidden secret of all
That is mystic and divine.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
47. Of vedas, meaning knowledge itself,
Thou art the Soul and form;
Thou art the tiny seed from which
Trees and forests grow; And thou the fruit which doth enclose
The seed of trees,
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.
48. All that inflames is Thou
And all that rains;
And thou the one eternal cause
Which begins the endless chain
Of causes and effects.
Thou art in life, Thou art in death
In immortal life as well;
In conscious mind, unconscious thing
Thou dost always dwell.
To That Lord of my Heart, I Bow.