th the whole strength of one's
being upon any one object whatsoever it might be, then does
the gateway to the Infinite become visible. The morning
songs were the first throwing forth of my inner self
outwards, and consequently they lack any signs of such
concentration.

This all-pervading joy of a first outflow, however, has the effect of
leading us to an acquaintance with the particular. The lake in its
fulness seeks an outlet as a river. In this sense the permanent later
love is narrower than first love. It is more definite in the direction
of its activities, desires to realise the whole in each of its parts,
and is thus impelled on towards the infinite. What it finally reaches is
no longer the former indefinite extension of the heart's own inner joy,
but a merging in the infinite reality which was outside itself, and
thereby the attainment of the complete truth of its own longings.

In Mohita Babu's edition these _Morning Songs_ have been placed in the
group of poems entitled _Nishkraman_, The Emergence. For in these was to
be found the first news of my coming out of the _Heart Wilderness_ into
the open world. Thereafter did this pilgrim heart make its acquaintance
with that world, bit by bit, part by part, in many a mood and manner.
And at the end, after gliding past all the numerous landing steps of
ever-changing impermanence, it will reach the infinite,--not the
vagueness of indeterminate possibility, but the consummation of perfect
fulness of Truth.

From my earliest years I enjoyed a simple and intimate communion with
Nature. Each one of the cocoanut trees in our garden had for me a
distinct personality. When, on coming home from the Normal School, I saw
behind the skyline of our roof-terrace blue-grey water-laden clouds
thickly banked up, the immense depth of gladness which filled me, all in
a moment, I can recall clearly even now. On opening my eyes every
morning, the blithely awakening world used to call me to join it like a
playmate; the perfervid noonday sky, during the long silent watches of
the siesta hours, would spirit me away from the work-a-day world into
the recesses of its hermit cell; and the darkness of night would open
the door to its phantom paths, and take me over all the seven seas and
thirteen rivers, past all possibilities and impossibilities, right into
its wonder-land.

Then one day, when, with the dawn of youth, my hungry heart began to cry
out for its susten