THE WEDDING hour is in the twilight, when the birds have sung their last and the winds are at rest on the waters, when the sunset spreads the carpet in the bridal chamber and the lamp is made ready to burn through the night.
Behind the silent dark walks the Unseen Comer and my heart trembles.
All songs are hushed, for the service will be read under the evening star.

LOVERS COME to you, my Queen, and proudly lay their riches at your feet: but my tribute is made up of unfulfilled hopes.
        Shadows have stolen across the heart of my world and the best in me has lost light.
        While the fortunate laugh at my penury, I ask you to lend my failings your tears, and so make them precious.
I bring you a voiceless instrument.
        I strained to reach a note which was too high in my heart, and the string broke.
While masters laugh at the snapped cord, I ask you to take my lute in your hands and fill its hollowness with your songs.

কী যে কোথা হেথা-হোথা যায় ছড়াছড়ি,
    কুড়িয়ে যতনে বাঁধি দিয়ে দড়াদড়ি।
      তবুও কখন শেষে
    বাঁধন যায় রে ফেঁসে,
      ধুলায় ভোলার দেশে
            যায় গড়াগড়ি--
  হায় রে, রয় না তার দাম কড়া কড়ি।