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He shared with a dumb Spirit identity. He beheld the cosmic Being at his task, His eyes measured the spaces, gauged the depths, His inner gaze the movements of the soul, He saw the eternal labour of the Gods, And looked upon the life of beasts and men. A change now fell upon the singer's mood, A rapture and a pathos moved his voice; He sang no more of Light that never wanes, And oneness and pure everlasting bliss, He sang no more the deathless heart of Love, His chant was a hymn of Ignorance and Fate. He sang the name of Vishnu and the birth And joy and passion of the mystic world, And how the stars were made and life began And the mute regions stirred with the throb of a Soul. He sang the Inconscient and its secret self, Its power omnipotent knowing not what it does, All-shaping without will or thought or sense, Its blind unerring occult mystery, And darkness yearning towards the eternal Light, And Love that broods within the dim abyss And waits the answer of the human heart, And death that climbs to immortality. He sang of the Truth that cries from Night's blind deeps, And the Mother-Wisdom hid in Nature's breast And the Idea that through her dumbness works And the miracle of her transforming hands, Of life that slumbers in the stone and sun And Mind subliminal in mindless life, And the Consciousness that wakes in beasts and men. He sang of the glory and marvel still to be born, Of Godhead throwing off at last its veil, Of bodies made divine and life made bliss, Immortal sweetness clasping immortal might, Heart sensing heart, thought looking straight at thought, 
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