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At the Feet of The Mother

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There we can walk and see the gods go by And sip from Hebe’s cup nectar enough To make for us heavenly limbs and deathless face.
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In all is one being many bodies bear; Here Krishna flutes upon the forest road, Here Shiva sits ash-smeared, with matted hair. But Shiva and Krishna are the single God.
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I am greater than the greatness of the seas, A swift tornado of God-energy: A helpless flower that quivers in the breeze, I am weaker than the reed one breaks with ease.
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My soul’s wide self of living infinite Space Outlines its body luminous and unborn Behind the earth-robe; under the earth-mask grows clear The mould of an imperishable face.