85. The Veils Of Maya

George William Russell

MOTHER, with whom our lives should be,
Not hatred keeps our lives apart:
Charmed by some lesser glow in thee,
Our hearts beat not within thy heart.


Beauty, the face, the touch, the eyes,
Prophets of thee, allure our sight
From that unfathomed deep where lies
Thine ancient loveliness and light.


Self-found at last, the joy that springs
Being thyself, shall once again
Start thee upon the whirling rings
And through the pilgrimage of pain.

Next 10 Poems

• George William Russell : 86. In The Womb
• George William Russell : 87. Sung On A By-way
• George William Russell : 88. Janus
• George William Russell : 89. The Grey Eros
• George William Russell : 9. Night
• George William Russell : 90. Duality
• George William Russell : 91. Truth
• George William Russell : 92. Fantasy
• George William Russell : 93. The Mountaineer
• George William Russell : 94. The Golden Age

Previous 10 Poems

• George William Russell : 84. The Memory Of Earth
• George William Russell : 83. Aphrodite
• George William Russell : 82. The Winds Of Angus
• George William Russell : 81. Creation
• George William Russell : 80. The Silence Of Love
• George William Russell : 8. Dusk
• George William Russell : 79. The Weaver Of Souls
• George William Russell : 78. A Summer Night
• George William Russell : 77. A Memory
• George William Russell : 76. Inspiration