The sacred charm and strength that dwell
On Aryan altars, flaming, free;
All these be yours, and many more
No ancient soul could dream before –
Be thou to India’s future son
The mistress, servant, friend in one.

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The charm and force that ever sway
The altar-fire’s flaming play;
The strength that leads, in love obeys;
Far-reaching dreams, and patient ways,
Eternal faith in Self, in all,
The light Divine in great, in small;
All these and more than I could see,
Today may ‘Mother’ grant to thee!

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