Poems By Arjava

WHAT is the analyst of pain,

Destroyer of desire,

Assessor for this earthen gain

That clouds the spirit-fire ?

Within the sanctuary divine,

Below the depth of sleep,

Unimaged effortless design

Those aeoned watches keep.

Unwearied by the fret of years,

Most passionless they wait :

They claim the world-new hope that n

The Builders born to limit Fate.