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On the day when death will knock at thy door what wilt thou offer

to him?

Oh, I will set before my guest the full vessel of my life–I will

never let him go with empty hands.

All the sweet vintage of all my autumn days and summer nights,

all the earnings and gleanings of my busy life will I place

before him at the close of my days when death will knock at my


O thou the last fulfilment of life, Death, my death, come and

whisper to me!

Day after day I have kept watch for thee; for thee have I borne

the joys and pangs of life.

All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love have ever

flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy.  One final glance from

thine eyes and my life will be ever thine own.

The flowers have been woven and the garland is ready for the

bridegroom.  After the wedding the bride shall leave her home and

meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.

I know that the day will come when my sight of this earth shall

be lost, and life will take its leave in silence, drawing the

last curtain over my eyes.

Yet stars will watch at night, and morning rise as before, and

hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.

When I think of this end of my moments, the barrier of the

moments breaks and I see by the light of death thy world with its

careless treasures.  Rare is its lowliest seat, rare is its

meanest of lives.

Things that I longed for in vain and things that I got–let them

pass.  Let me but truly possess the things that I ever spurned

and overlooked.

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From: GITANJALI – ‘Song Offerings’



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