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Then know you too, O listen all, that oft the eyes of earth-sense are thickened with the gray of truth misundertood, why do ye not rise to meet the love that stretches out to you? Why are the plumed wings not outspread? Why the spirit-forehead stands on tip-toe?
* *
In the play ground of the forest, by the bank of the sportive river, 'neath the trees when the wing of songbirds stirs the leaves of sleeping roses, and the perfume of the lotus calls languorous love, where the sparkling stars are laughing and the moonbeams kills the darkness, in the sweet divine embracing where the the Twain in Bliss do meet—there am I.
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Therefore because thou art thus, not all the concentrated beauty of a whole universe can take from thee that which is thine, nor can the combined virtues of realm on realm hold to thee that which is not for thee.
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Glory to Gooroo who by the law of wisdom taketh away ignorance! Glory and salutation to Gooroo!
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When you do come to Me, let all your robes be white, your motives clean. When a man is blind there is a veil before his eyes. I do not mix with earth. Unless all clean and free from earth-nature, how can you understand the words that are born in My Abode?