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Hymn L.- Aananda Malai The Garland Of Rapture.


I. How may I join my friends beyond? 

Th' Immortals all have gained Thy flower-like feet, 

bright as the lightning's glance;- have crossed 
The world's wide sea, and bearing golden flowers 

they praise ! Reveal in love, I pray,- 
Thou Refuge of the stony worthless heart, 

how one like me,- distressed,- cast off,- 
Sunk in the sea of fond desire,- at length, 

how many I come to Thee? (4)

II. Have pity on my lonely grief! 

Thou gav'st the station blest I knew not of; 

but I knew not Thy grace,- was lost ! 
Master, no failure is in Thee at ail; 

Who comes to aid Thy slave? I cry ! 
Not joined with Thine own ancient saints,- 

who serve and praise Thee many a day, 
My Leader loved, here left behind I stay;- 

Thou see'st my lonely pain ! (8)

III. I am His - when shall I join Him? 

Of virtue void, of penitential grace 

devoid, undisciplined, untaught,- 
As leathern puppet danced about, giddy, 

I whirling fell, lay prostrate there ! 
He showed me wondrous things; He showed the way 

to pass to worlds not reached before; 
The raft He show'd : when shall I come, a wretch. 

to Him Who made me His ? (12)

IV. Am I rightfully abandoned? 

I perish, as to perish is my doom; 

the blame, Imperishable One, 
Thou tak;st; and, if to suffering doomed, I bear 

my destined woes, what is the gain? 
O Guru-Gem, Who dost defend and rule,- 

that I sink not in cruel hell; 
Is't good, our Leader lov'd, that Thou withdraw, 

and stand not in the midst? (16)

V. Is there no pity? 

Thou Who dost cherish men like mother dear,- 

uncherish'd, left, a weakling here,- 
And must I perish, I a cur ! In love 

henceforth Thy goodness show to me ! 
I've called Thee hast no grace for me, 

but now Thou hast no grace for me,- 
Vile me, whom Thou 'mid saints didst make Thine own ! 

I'm he ! Should'st Thou not save ? (20)

VI. I claim Thy consolation. 

O King, should'st Thou not show Thy grace? 

I, wretched, lie at ruin's door. 
And, if Thou bid me not to come to Thee, 

who is there here to calm my fears? 
Are they who're doomed to die, my fellows all? 

'This is unmeet,' will not men say? 
O God, Dancer in Tillai's hall, I tremble, 

henceforth comfort me ! (24)

VII. I sink powerless before Thee. 

Thou mad'st the jackal be a charger fleet ! 

Didst work enchantments manifold ! 
The mighty SOuth King's Madura Thou fill'dst 

with madness, Perun-turrai's Lord ! 
O Being hard to reach ! O Avanaci's Sire ! 

The Pandi kingdom's rushing flood ! 
O Splendour, infinite, unknown, in sooth 

I know not aught to do ! (28)

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