A Translation

“His sacred form is Love, His holy eye is the deep home of Grace, His blessed word, distilling as the dew, Is life’s Elixir, truest, purest joy. He looks upon the world of sinful men, And stretches out His hand to beckon them. His hand, so glad to give, so strong to guard, And then, it is as if He said, ‘Fear not.’

“Why wander weary still? Why wilfully go sad? Oh, people come! Come all ye people, to the succouring feet Of Him Who is alone your own true Lord. 7s your heart iron? Has it not melted yet? Oh, turn ye but a little, look to Him Th? renouncing God, Who gave His life for you. And, won by looking, come to Him Who calls And longs that you should live!”

Krishna PillAi,

Convert, Scholar, and Poet,
Tinnevelley, S. India,

Went in to see the King
January, 1900.