The poem
FAINT grew the yellow buds of light Far flickering beyond the snows, As leaning o’er the shadowy white Morn glimmered like a pale primrose.
Within an Indian vale below A child said “OM” with tender heart, Watching with loving eyes the glow In dayshine fade and night depart.
The word which Brahma at his dawn Outbreathes and endeth at his night, Whose tide of sound so rolling on Gives birth to orbs of pearly light;
And beauty, wisdom, love, and youth, By its enchantment gathered grow In agelong wandering to the truth, Through many a cycle’s ebb and flow.
And here the voice of earth was stilled, The child was lifted to the Wise: A strange delight his spirit filled, And Brahm looked from his shining eyes.