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In Salutation to the Eternal Peace

 Men say the world is full of fear and hate,
And all life's ripening harvest-fields await
The restless sickle of relentless fate.
But I, sweet Soul, rejoice that I was born, When from the climbing terraces of corn I watch the golden orioles of Thy morn.
What care I for the world's desire and pride, Who know the silver wings that gleam and glide, The homing pigeons of Thine eventide? What care I for the world's loud weariness, Who dream in twilight granaries Thou dost bless With delicate sheaves of mellow silences? Say, shall I heed dull presages of doom, Or dread the rumoured loneliness and gloom, The mute and mythic terror of the tomb? For my glad heart is drunk and drenched with Thee, O inmost wind of living ecstasy! O intimate essence of eternity!

by Sarojini Naidu
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