| Blind man asks me of the sunshine, The. To what can one compare it for him? |
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| O Soul, cling fast to the spotless Form |
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| O Udhow, I have seen the Form |
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| Whose sin and pride is great as mine? |
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| You wore the habit but the secret knew not—amrit you drank and made it poison |
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| Lord of the helpless, this is now Thine hour |
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| All days bear not one likeness |
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| He in whose heart the name of Hari dwells, he called upon another's name, or did not call. 'Tis one |
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| Had I but clung in love to Rama's feet |
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| O Soul, thou hast missed all the meaning of life—why hast thou lost it so? |
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