Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again and again, and fillest it ever with fresh life.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales, and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new.

At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable.

Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass, and still thou pourest, and still there is room to fill.

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;

Where knowledge is free;

Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;

Where words come out from the depth of truth;

Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;

Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;

Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action—

Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

This is my prayer to thee, my lord—strike, strike at the root of penury in my heart. Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows.
Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service.
Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before insolent might.
Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles.
And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love.

I had gone a-begging from door to door in the village path, when thy golden chariot appeared in the distance like a gorgeous dream and I wondered who was this King of all kings! 
    My hopes rose high and methought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust. 
   The chariot stopped where I stood. Thy glance fell on me and thou camest down with a smile. I felt that the luck of my life had come at last. Then of a sudden thou didst hold out thy right hand and say “What hast thou to give to me?”
    Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg! I was confused and stood undecided, and then from my wallet I slowly took out the least grain of corn and gave it to thee. 
   But how great my surprise when at the day’s end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little grain of gold among the poor heap. I bitterly wept and wished that I had had the heart to give thee to my all. 

The same stream of life that runs
through my veins night and day runs
through the world and dances in
rhythmic measures.
    It is the same life that shoots in joy
through the dust of the earth in
numberless blades of grass and breaks
into tumultuous waves of leaves and
flowers.
    It is the same life that is rocked in
the ocean-cradle of birth and of death,
in ebb and in flow.
    I feel my limbs are made glorious by
the touch of this world of life. And my
pride is from the life-throb of ages
dancing in my blood this moment.

Ever in my life have I sought thee 

with my songs. It was they who led 

me from door to door, and with them 

have I felt about me, searching and

touching my world.

   It was my songs that taught me all

the lessons I ever learnt; they showed

me secret paths, they brought before 

my sight many a star on the horizon of

my heart.

  They guided me all the day long to 

the mysteries of the country of pleasure 

and pain, and, at last, to what palace

gate have they brought me in the 

evening at the end of my journey?

In one salutation to thee, my God, let 

all my senses spread out and touch this 

world at thy feet.

   Like a rain-cloud of July hung low 

with its burden of unshed showers let 

all my mind bend down at thy door in 

one salutation to thee.

   Let all my songs gather together 

their diverse strains into a single current

and flow to a sea of silence in one salu- 

tation to thee.

   Like a flock of homesick cranes flying 

night and day back to their mountain 

nests let all my life take its voyage to 

its eternal home in one salutation to 

thee.