8. THE MASTER(December 9, 1950)
With folly futile thy spirit's core to buy
We have come, O Master sweet!
The Mother with Pole-Star-Eye commands our hearts
The ignorance-dream to quit.
The armoured breasts of the Gods we all behold
Around thy citadel-deeps.
Night and Death now weep in awe unknown
Before thy Apocalypse.
The born and unborn drink deep from Thee the Grace,
O Fountain of all!
The hurtful roar of ignorance stark is hushed
With all its venom-gall.
The sky, the sun and moon, the host of stars
Announce thy victory vast,
Thy trance of fire broods immortality
Upon the aspiring dust.