Issues upon the Universe that sum Which is the lattermost of lives. It makes Its habitation as the worm spins silk And dwells therein. It takes

Function and substance as the snake's egg hatched Takes scale and fang; as feathered reedseeds fly O'er rock and loam and sand, until they find Their marsh and multiply.

Also it issues forth to help or hurt. When Death the bitter murderer doth smite, Red roams the unpurged fragment of him, driven On wings of plague and blight.

But when the mild and just die, sweet airs breathe; The world grows richer, as if desert-stream Should sink away to sparkle up again Purer, with broader gleam.

So merit won winneth the happier age Which by demerit halteth short of end; Yet must this Law of Love reign King of all Before the Kalpas end.

What lets?—Brothers? the Darkness lets! which breeds Ignorance, mazed whereby ye take these shows For true, and thirst to have, and, having, cling To lusts which work you woes.

Ye that will tread the Middle Road, whose course Bright Reason traces and soft Quiet smoothes; Ye who will take the high Nirvana-way, List the Four Noble Truths.

The First Truth is of Sorrow. Be not mocked! Life which ye prize is long-drawn agony: Only its pains abide; its pleasures are As birds which light and fly,

Ache of the birth, ache of the helpless days, Ache of hot youth and ache of manhood's prime; Ache of the chill grey years and choking death, These fill your piteous time.

Sweet is fond Love, but funeral-flames must kiss The breasts which pillow and the lips which cling; Gallant is warlike Might, but vultures pick The joints of chief and King.

Beauteous is Earth, but all its forest-broods Plot mutual slaughter, hungering to live; Of sapphire are the skies, but when men cry Famished, no drops they give.

Ask of the sick, the mourners, ask of him Who tottereth on his staff, lone and forlorn, "Liketh thee life?"—these say the babe is wise That weepeth, being born.

The Second Truth is Sorrow's Cause. What grief Springs of itself and springs not of Desire? Senses and things perceived mingle and light Passion's quick spark of fire:

So flameth Trishna, lust and thirst of things. Eager ye cleave to shadows, dote on dreams. A false Self in the midst ye plant, and make A world around which seems;

Blind to the height beyond, deaf to the sound Of sweet airs breathed from far past Indra's sky; Dumb to the summons of the true life kept For him who false puts by.

So grow the strifes and lusts which make earth's war, So grieve poor cheated hearts and flow salt tears; So wag the passions, envies, angers, hates; So years chase blood-stained years

With wild red feet. So, where the grain should grow, Spreads the biran-weed with its evil root And poisonous blossoms; hardly good seeds find Soil where to fall and shoot;

And drugged with poisonous drink the soul departs, And fierce with thirst to drink Karma returns; Sense-struck again the sodden self begins, And new deceits it earns

The Third is Sorrow's Ceasing. This is peace— To conquer love of self and lust of life, To tear deep-rooted passion from the breast, To still the inward strife;

For love, to clasp Eternal Beauty close; For glory, to be lord of self; for pleasure, To live beyond the gods; for countless wealth, To lay up lasting treasure

Of perfect service rendered, duties done In charity, soft speech, and stainless days These riches shall not fade away in life, Nor any death dispraise.

Then Sorrow ends, for Life and Death have ceased; How should lamps flicker when their oil is spent? The old sad count is clear, the new is clean; Thus hath a man content.

The Fourth Truth is The Way. It openeth wide, Plain for all feet to tread, easy and near, The Noble Eightfold Path; it goeth straight To peace and refuge. Hear!

Manifold tracks lead to yon sister-peaks Around whose snows the gilded clouds are curled By steep or gentle slopes the climber comes Where breaks that other world.

Strong limbs may dare the rugged road which storms, Soaring and perilous, the mountain's breast; The weak must wind from slower ledge to ledge With many a place of rest.

So is the Eightfold Path which brings to peace; By lower or by upper heights it goes. The firm soul hastes, the feeble tarries. All Will reach the sunlit snows.

The First good Level is Right Doctrine. Walk In fear of Dharma, shunning all offence; In heed of Karma, which doth make man's fate; In lordship over sense.

The Second is Right Purpose. Have good-will To all that lives, letting unkindness die And greed and wrath; so that your lives be made Like soft airs passing by.

The Third is Right Discourse. Govern the lips As they were palace-doors, the King within; Tranquil and fair and courteous be all words Which from that presence win.

The Fourth is Right Behavior. Let each act Assoil a fault or help a merit grow; Like threads of silver seen through crystal beads Let love through good deeds show.

Four higher roadways be. Only those feet May tread them which have done with earthly things— Right Purity, Right Thought, Right Loneliness, Right Rapture. Spread no wings

For sunward flight, thou soul with unplumed vans Sweet is the lower air and safe, and known The homely levels: only strong ones leave The nest each makes his own.

Dear is the love, I know, of Wife and Child; Pleasant the friends and pastimes of your years; Fruitful of good Life's gentle charities; False, though firm-set, its fears.

Live—ye who must—such lives as live on these; Make golden stair-ways of your weakness; rise By daily sojourn with those phantasies To lovelier verities.

So shall ye pass to clearer heights and find Easier ascents and lighter loads of sins, And larger will to burst the bonds of sense, Entering the Path. Who wins

To such commencement hath the First Stage touched; He knows the Noble Truths, the Eightfold Road; By few or many steps such shall attain NIRVANA's blest abode.

Who standeth at the Second Stage, made free From doubts, delusions, and the inward strife, Lord of all lusts, quit of the priests and books, Shall live but one more life.

Yet onward lies the Third Stage: purged and pure Hath grown the stately spirit here, hath risen To love all living things in perfect peace. His life at end, life's prison

Is broken. Nay, there are who surely pass Living and visible to utmost goal By Fourth Stage of the Holy ones—the Buddhs— And they of stainless soul.

Lo! like fierce foes slain by some warrior, Ten sins along these Stages lie in dust, The Love of Self, False Faith, and Doubt are three, Two more, Hatred and Lust.

Who of these Five is conqueror hath trod Three stages out of Four: yet there abide The Love of Life on earth, Desire for Heaven, Self-Praise, Error, and Pride.

As one who stands on yonder snowy horn Having nought o'er him but the boundless blue, So, these sins being slain, the man is come NIRVANA's verge unto.

Him the Gods envy from their lower seats; Him the Three Worlds in ruin should not shake; All life is lived for him, all deaths are dead; Karma will no more make

New houses. Seeking nothing, he gains all; Foregoing self, the Universe grows "I": If any teach NIRVANA is to cease, Say unto such they lie.

If any teach NIRVANA is to live, Say unto such they err; not knowing this, Nor what light shines beyond their broken lamps, Nor lifeless, timeless bliss.

Enter the Path! There is no grief like Hate! No pains like passions, no deceit like sense! Enter the Path! far hath he gone whose foot Treads down one fond offence.

Enter the Path! There spring the healing streams Quenching all thirst! there bloom th' immortal flowers Carpeting all the way with joy! there throng, Swiftest and sweetest hours!

More is the treasure of the Law than gems; Sweeter than comb its sweetness; its delights Delightful past compare. Thereby to live Hear the Five Rules aright:—

Kill not—for Pity's sake—and lest ye slay The meanest thing upon its upward way.

Give freely and receive, but take from none By greed, or force, or fraud, what is his own.

Bear not false witness, slander not, nor lie; Truth is the speech of inward purity.

Shun drugs and drinks which work the wit abuse; Clear minds, clean bodies, need no soma juice.

Touch not thy neighbour's wife, neither commit Sins of the flesh unlawful and unfit.

These words the Master spake of duties due To father, mother, children, fellows, friends; Teaching how such as may not swiftly break The clinging chains of sense—whose feet are weak To tread the higher road—should order so This life of flesh that all their hither days Pass blameless in discharge of charities And first true footfalls in the Eightfold Path; Living pure, reverent, patient, pitiful, Loving all things which live even as themselves; Because what falls for ill is fruit of ill Wrought in the past, and what falls well of good; And that by howsomuch the householder Purgeth himself of self and helps the world, By so much happier comes he to next stage, In so much bettered being. This he spake, As also long before, when our Lord walked By Rajagriha in the Bamboo-Grove For on a dawn he walked there and beheld The householder Singala, newly bathed, Bowing himself with bare head to the earth, To Heaven, and all four quarters; while he threw Rice, red and white, from both hands. "Wherefore thus Bowest thou, Brother?" said the Lord; and he, "It is the way, Great Sir! our fathers taught At every dawn, before the toil begins, To hold off evil from the sky above And earth beneath, and all the winds which blow." Then the World-honoured spake: "Scatter not rice, But offer loving thoughts and acts to all. To parents as the East where rises light; To teachers as the South whence rich gifts come; To wife and children as the West where gleam Colours of love and calm, and all days end; To friends and kinsmen and all men as North; To humblest living things beneath, to Saints And Angels and the blessed Dead above So shall all evil be shut off, and so The six main quarters will be safely kept."

But to his own, them of the yellow robe They who, as wakened eagles, soar with scorn From life's low vale, and wing towards the Sun To these he taught the Ten Observances The Dasa-Sil, and how a mendicant Must know the Three Doors and the Triple Thoughts; The Sixfold States of Mind; the Fivefold Powers; The Eight High Gates of Purity; the Modes Of Understanding; Iddhi; Upeksha; The Five Great Meditations, which are food Sweeter than Amrit for the holy soul; The Jhana's and the Three Chief Refuges. Also he taught his own how they should dwell; How live, free from the snares of love and wealth; What eat and drink and carry—three plain cloths, Yellow, of stitched stuff, worn with shoulder bare A girdle, almsbowl, strainer. Thus he laid The great foundations of our Sangha well, That noble Order of the Yellow Robe Which to this day standeth to help the World.

So all that night he spake, teaching the Law And on no eyes fell sleep—for they who heard Rejoiced with tireless joy. Also the King, When this was finished, rose upon his throne And with bared feet bowed low before his Son Kissing his hem; and said, "Take me, O Son! Lowest and least of all thy Company." And sweet Yasodhara, all happy now,— Cried "Give to Rahula—thou Blessed One! The Treasure of the Kingdom of thy Word For his inheritance." Thus passed these Three Into the Path. ——————

Here endeth what I write Who love the Master for his love of us, A little knowing, little have I told Touching the Teacher and the Ways of Peace. Forty-five rains thereafter showed he those In many lands and many tongues and gave Our Asia light, that still is beautiful, Conquering the world with spirit of strong grace All which is written in the holy Books, And where he passed and what proud Emperors Carved his sweet words upon the rocks and caves: And how—in fulness of the times—it fell The Buddha died, the great Tathagato, Even as a man 'mongst men, fulfilling all And how a thousand thousand crores since then Have trod the Path which leads whither he went Unto NIRVANA where the Silence lives.

Ah! Blessed Lord! Oh, High Deliverer! Forgive this feeble script, which doth thee wrong. Measuring with little wit thy lofty love. Ah! Lover! Brother! Guide! Lamp of the law! I take my refuge in they name and thee! I take my refuge in they order! OM! The dew is on the lotus!—Rise, Great Sun! And lift my leaf and mix me with the wave. Om Mani Padme Hum, the sunrise comes! The Dewdrop Slips Into The Shining Sea!

The End