I HAVE SCALED the peak and found no shelter in fame's bleak and barren height. Lead me, my Guide, before the light fades, into the valley of quiet where life's harvest mellows into golden wisdom.
EARLY WINTER spreads her filmy veil over midnight stars, and the call comes from the deep, 'Man, bring out your lamp.' The forests are bare of flowers, the birds have ceased to sing the river-side grass has shed its blossoms. Come, Dipali, waken hidden flames out of the desolate dark, and offer symphony of praise to eternal light. The stars are dimmed the night is disconsolate, and the call comes from the deep, 'Man, bring out your lamp.'