The Sword of Song

PENTECOST 23 I lived, Elijah-like, Mt. Carmel in : All gave me nothing. I slid back To common sense, as reason bids, And “hence,” my friend, “the Pyramids.” At last I met a maniac With mild eyes full of love, and tresses Blanched in those lonely wildernesses Where he found wisdom, and long hands Gentle, pale olive ’gainst the sand’s Amber and gold. At sight, I knew him ; Swifter than light I flashed, ran to him, And at his holy feet prostrated My head ; then, all my being sated With love, cried “Master ! I must know. Already I can love.” E’en so. The sage saluted me ram, ram,9 lmba p'av kI b'I dam , janI yh sb se m…zikl kam hE, vah zavaz , t…mhar nam istarae< me< sIne se iloa hE , hmare pas Aap cele , hm dva$ icÄa ke vaSte de<ge . ha< , said I : “I’m game to work through all eternity, Your holiness the Guru Swami !”* Thus I studied with him till he told me bs. 10 He taught the A B C of Yoga : I asked ik vaSte,11 kya haega .12 In strange and painful attitude,13 I sat while he was very rude.14 With eyes well fixed on my proboscis15 I soon absorbed the Yogi Gnosis. He taught me to steer clear of vices The giddy waltz, the tuneful aria, Those fatal foes of Brahma-charya;16 And said, “How very mild and nice is One’s luck to lop out truth in slices, And chance to chop up cosmic crises !” * The correct form of addres s from a pupil to his teacher. See Sab- hapaty Swami’s pamphlet on Yoga. 35 40 45 50 55 60 65 70 My Mahatma. What price Kut Humi ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Oh, how wise Grampa must have been, Bobbie !