Wounded with the mighty love Of my mistress Life, I wander on, her loyal herald And her worshipper. To thy mystic suppers call Me not, O Galilean, Prophet of the misty dream, Denier of things that are! Crowned with lotus, show me not Nirvana's senseless bliss! Yet, do thou, O Sun, shine forth About, within, above; Shine upon my love and make A world of the Earth planet! Shine life-giving with thy light, O my Sun and God!
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