lusts,
  Free to obey Nirvana’s law of love,
  The law of order—­primal, highest law—­
  Which guides the great Artificer himself,
  Who weaves the garments of the joyful spring,
  Who paints the glories of the passing clouds,
  Who tunes the music of the rolling spheres,
  Guided by love in all His mighty works,
  Filling with love the humblest willing heart.

  He saw that love softens and sweetens life,
  And stills the passions, soothes the troubled breast,
  Fills homes with joy and gives the nations peace,
  A sovereign balm for all the spirit’s wounds,
  The living fountain of Nirvana’s bliss;
  For here before his eyes were countless souls,
  Born to the sorrows of a sinful world,
  With burdens bowed, by cares and griefs oppressed,
  Who felt for others’ sorrows as their own,
  Who lent a helping hand to those in need,
  Returning good for evil, love for hate,
  Whose garments now were white as spotless wool,
  Whose faces beamed with gentleness and love,
  As onward, upward, devas guide their steps,
  Nirvana’s happy mansions full in view.

  He saw the noble eightfold path that mounts
  From life’s low levels to Nirvana’s heights. 
  Not by steep grades the strong alone can climb,
  But by such steps as feeblest limbs may take. 
  He saw that day by day and step by step,
  By lusts resisted and by evil shunned,
  By acts of love and daily duties done,
  Soothing some heartache, helping those in need,
  Smoothing life’s journey for a brother’s feet,
  Guarding the lips from harsh and bitter words,
  Guarding the heart from gross and selfish thoughts,
  Guarding the hands from every evil act,
  Brahman or Sudra, high or low, may rise
  Till heaven’s bright mansions open to the view,
  And heaven’s warm sunshine brightens all the way;
  While neither hecatombs of victims slain,
  Nor clouds of incense wafted to the skies,
  Nor chanted hymns, nor prayers to all the gods,
  Can raise a soul that clings to groveling lusts.

  He saw the cause of sorrow, and its cure. 
  He saw that waves of love surround the soul
  As waves of sunlight fill the outer world,
  While selfishness, the subtle alchemist
  Concealed within, changes that love to hate,
  Forges the links of karma’s fatal chain,
  Of passions, envies, lusts to bind the soul,
  And weaves his webs of falsehood and deceit
  To close its windows to the living light,
  Changing its mansion to its prison-house,
  Where it must lay self-chained and self-condemned;
  While dharma, truth, the law, the living word,
  Brushes away those deftly woven webs,
  Opens its windows to the living light,
  Reveals the architect of all its ills,
  Scatters the timbers of its prison-house,[3]
  And snaps in twain those bitter, galling