Oct 1, 1969 | Poetry, Uttara Dasi, Volume-01 Number-29
Just at the end of night, when all is still And hung with blindness, breeding dark decay, The sun, with rays of cleansing, living light Moves forth on the horizon, and brings day; So an Acharya comes, bearing the light Of love of God, the clearest beams of all. He is...
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