Ah, there is no one now to claim them, who can pay their price
with loving care, yet here they are still.

Surely there is love in this world to save her from utter loss,
even like this love of hers that saved these letters with such
fond care.

XLVIII

Bring beauty and order into my forlorn life, woman, as you
brought them into my house when you lived.

Sweep away the dusty fragments of the hours, fill the empty jars,
and mend all that has been neglected.

Then open the inner door of the shrine, light the candle, and let
us meet there in silence before our God.

XLIX

The pain was great when the strings were being tuned, my Master!

Begin your music, and let me forget the pain; let me feel in
beauty what you had in your mind through those pitiless days.

The waning night lingers at my doors, let her take her leave in
songs.

Pour your heart into my life strings, my Master, in tunes that
descend from your stars.

L

In the lightning flash of a moment I have seen the immensity of
your creation in my life--creation through many a death from
world to world.

I weep at my unworthiness when I see my life in the hands of the
unmeaning hours,--but when I see it in your hands I know it is
too precious to be squandered among shadows.

LI

I know that at the dim end of some day the sun will bid me its
farewell.

Shepherds will play their pipes beneath the banyan trees, and
cattle graze on the slope by the river, while my days will pass
into the dark.

This is my prayer, that I may know before I leave why the earth
called me to her arms.

Why her night's silence spoke to me of stars, and her daylight
kissed my thoughts into flower.

Before I go may I linger over my last refrain, completing its
music, may the lamp be lit to see your face and the wreath woven
to crown you.

LII

What music is that in whose measure the world is rocked?

We laugh when it beats upon the crest of life, we shrink in
terror when it returns into the dark.

But the play is the same that comes and goes with the rhythm of
the endless music.

You hide your treasure in the palm of your hand, and we cry that
we are robbed.

But open and shut your palm as you will, the gain and the loss
are the same.

At the game you play with your own self you lose and win at once.

LIII

I have kissed this world with my eyes and my limbs; I have wrapt
it within my heart in numberless folds; I have flooded its