The Bay of Bengal to the Mother Divine

March 28, 1914

A flood of joy that knows no mete am I.
Mother, with my dulcet flotes I bow to Thee.
The ocean-grey hound Thou ridest, anon thy eyes
Shall clasp the Light of the worlds in ecstasy.

Prithee, bestow on me a largess high.
My giant breast now serves thy cloak of love.
A candid rosy desire tortures my heart.
Mother, I know, I am thy eternal dove.

My child, your choice immaculate I fulfil.
By you I shall dwell with my deathless human Frame.
From here the Supreme and I shall guide the worlds.
And this your boon unique — a ceaseless fame.