Life of my life, I shall ever try… that thy living touch is upon all… I shall ever try to keep all untru… that thou art that truth which has… I shall ever try to drive all evil…

Day after day he comes and goes aw… Go, and give him a flower from my… If he asks who was it that sent it… He sits on the dust under the tree… Spread there a seat with flowers a…

HAVE mercy upon your servant, my… The assembly is over and my servan… When you have finished with others… What can you expect when it is too… Make me the gardener of your flowe…

I shall gladly suffer the pride of… if only in some happy future I am… forest. The herd—boy who grazes his cattle… tree, and idly weaves gunja flower…

Love adorns itself; it seeks to prove inward joy by ou… Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom. Love is an endless mystery,

I run as a musk-deer runs in the s… The night is the night of mid-May… I lose my way and I wander, I see… From my heart comes out and dances… The gleaming vision flits on.

When she passed by me with quick s… From the unknown island of a heart… A flutter of a flitting touch brus… It fell upon my heart like a sigh…

“Ah, poet, the evening draws near;… “Do you in your lonely musing hear… “It is evening,” the poet said, “a… “I watch if young straying hearts… “Who is there to weave their passi…

If you would be busy and fill your… The water will cling round your fe… The shadow of the coming rain is o… I know well the rhythm of your ste… Come, O come to my lake, if you m…

In the night of weariness let me give myself up to sleep wit… resting my trust upon thee. Let me not force my flagging spiri… It is thou who drawest the veil of…

With days of hard travail I raise… I forgot all else, I shunned all… It was always night inside, and li… The ceaseless smoke of incense wou… Sleepless, I carved on the walls…

When I give up the helm I know that the time has come for… What there is to do will be instan… Vain is this struggle. Then take away your hands

Why do you sit there and jingle yo… Fill your pitcher. It is time fo… Why do you stir the water with you… Fill your pitcher and come home. The morning hours pass by—the dark…

Beauty is truth’s smile when she beholds her own face in a… Beauty is in the ideal of perfect… which is in the universal being; truth the perfect comprehension of…