Complete Works. Rabindranath Tagore

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      Let my thoughts come to you, when I am gone, like the afterglow of sunset at the margin of starry silence.

      274

      Light in my heart the evening star of rest and then let the night whisper to me of love.

      275

      I am a child in the dark.

       I stretch my hands through the coverlet of night for thee. Mother.

      276

      The day of work is done. Hide my face in your arms, Mother.

       Let me dream.

      277

      The lamp of meeting burns long ; it goes out in a moment at the parting.

      278

      One word keep for me in thy silence, O World, when I am dead, "I have loved."

      279

      We live in this world when we love it.

      280

      Let the dead have the immortality of fame, but the living the immortality of love.

      281

      I have seen thee as the half-awakened child sees his mother in the dusk of the dawn and then smiles and sleeps again.

      282

      I shall die again and again to know that life is inexhaustible.

      283

      While I was passing with the crowd in the road I saw thy smile from the balcony and I sang and forgot all noise.

      284

      Love is life in its fulness like the cup with its wine.

      285

      They light their own lamps and sing their own words in their temples.

       But the birds sing thy name in thine own morning light,—for thy name is joy.

      286

      Lead me in the centre of thy silence to fill my heart with songs.

      287

      Let them live who choose in their own hissing world of fireworks.

       My heart longs for thy stars, my God.

      288

      Love's pain sang round my life like the unplumbed sea, and love's joy sang like birds in its flowering groves.

      289

      Put out the lamp when thou wishest.

       I shall know thy darkness and shall love it.

      290

      When I stand before thee at the day's end thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.

      291

      Some day I shall sing to thee in the sunrise of some other world, "I have seen thee before in the light of the earth, in the love of man."

      292

      Clouds come floating into my life from other days no longer to shed rain or usher storm but to give colour to my sunset sky.

      293

      Truth raises against itself the storm that scatters its seeds broadcast.

      294

      The storm of the last night has crowned this morning with golden peace.

      295

      Truth seems to come with its final word; and the final word gives birth to its next.

      296

      Blessed is he whose fame does not outshine his truth.

      297

      Sweetness of thy name fills my heart when I forget mine— like thy morning sun when the mist is melted.

      298

      The silent night has the beauty of the mother and the clamorous day

      299

      The world loved man when he smiled.

       The world became afraid of him when he laughed.

      300

      God waits for man to regain his childhood in wisdom.

      301

      Let me feel this world as thy love taking form, then my love will help it.

      302

      Thy sunshine smiles upon the winter days of my heart, never doubting of its spring flowers.

      303

      God kisses the finite in his love and man the infinite.

      304

      Thou Grossest desert lands of barren years to reach the moment of fulfilment.

      305

      God's silence ripens man's thoughts into speech.

      306

      Thou wilt find, Eternal Traveller, marks of thy footsteps across my songs.

      307

      Let me not shame thee. Father, who displayest thy glory in thy children.

      308

      Cheerless is the day, the light under frowning clouds is like a punished child with traces of tears on its pale cheeks, and the cry of the wind is like the cry of a wounded world. But I know I am travelling to meet my Friend.

      309

      To-night there is a stir among the palm leaves, a swell in the sea, Full Moon, like the heart throb of the world. From what unknown sky hast thou carried in thy silence the aching secret of love?

      310

      I dream of a star, an island of light, where I shall be born and in the depth of its quickening leisure my life will ripen its works like the ricefield in the autumn sun.

      311

      The smell of the wet earth in the rain rises like a great chant of praise from the voiceless multitude of the insignificant.

      312

      That love can ever lose is a fact that we cannot accept as truth.

      313

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