This puppet ego the World-Mother made,

This little profiteer of Nature’s works,

Her trust in his life-tenancy betrayed,

Makes claim on claim, all debt to her he shirks.

Each movement of our life our ego fills;

Inwoven in each thread of being’s weft,

When most we vaunt our selflessness, it steals

A sordid part; no corner void is left.

One way lies free our heart and soul to give,

Our body and mind to Thee and every cell,

And steeped in Thy world-infinity to live.

Then lost in light, shall fade the ignoble spell.

Nature, of her rebellion quit, shall be

A breath of the Spirit’s vast serenity.