Let thy reason be close to nature

This onrush of yearning—
I cannot live without it,
For the quintessence of my life
Is this onrush of yearning.

Nature doth impel me
To warble a song of the heart;
It strikes perhaps a chord
In some responsive hearts.

That Promethean Fire
Can always set thy soul ablaze.,
Blame not thy Maker
If thou lackest that fire.

Do not be glamourized
By the luminous flash of the West;
That flash is the blessing
Of incandescent lamps.

If thy eyes are not aflame
With a global vision,
Thy heart will not be stirred
By the passion to conquer the world.

A hunter’s prey I would not be
Even in winter’s wrath,
If my abode had not been
So meagre, so exposed.

It is not my fantasy,
But a truth revealed:
Orders will be toppled,
And fates will be topsy—turvy.