ON VIRTUE
Description of
the Virtuous
Homage to him who keeps his
heart a book
For stainless matters, prone
great talk to prize
And nearness of the good; whose faithful
look
Rejoices in his own dear wife,
whose eyes
Are humble to the Master good
and wise;
A passion high for learning,
noble fear
Of public shame who feels;
treasures the still
Sweet love of God; to self no
minister,
But schools that ravener to
his lordlier will,
Far from the evil herd on
virtue’s hill.
The Noble Nature
Eloquence in the assembly; in
the field
The puissant arm, the lion’s heart; proud
looks
Unshaken in defeat; but modest-kind
Mercy when victory crowns; passionate for
books
High love of
learning, thoughts to fame inclined; —
These things are natural to the noble mind.
The High and Difficult Road
To give in secret as beneath
a shroud;
To honour all who to thy
threshold come;
Do good by stealth and of thy deeds be
dumb,
But of another’s noble acts be proud
And vaunt them in the senate and the crowd;
To keep low minds in fortune’s arrogant day;
To speak of foemen without scorn or rage;
What finger appointed first
this roughest way
Of virtue narrower than the
falchion’s edge ?
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Adornment
The hand needs not a bracelet for its pride,
High liberality its greatness is;
The head no crown wants to show deified;
Fallen at the Master’s feet it best doth please.
Truth-speaking makes the face more bright to shine,
Deep study girds the brow with diamond rays;
Strength and not gold in conquering arms
divine
Triumphs; calm purity the heart arrays.
Nature’s great men have these for wealth and gem;
Riches they need
not, nor a diadem.
The Softness and Hardness of the Noble
Being
fortunate, how the noble heart grows soft
As lilies! but in calamity’s rude
shocks
Rugged and high like a wild mountain’s
rocks
It
fronts the thunders, granite piled aloft.
The Power of Company
Behold the water’s way, — on iron red
When it falls hissing, not a trace remains,
Yet ‘tis the same that on the lotus shines,
A dewy thing like pearls, — yea, pearl indeed
Turns when the oyster-shell receives and heaven
To those rain-bringing stars their hour has given.
High virtue, vice or inconspicuous mean
‘Tis company that moulds in things or men.
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The Three Blessings
He is a son whose noble deeds and high
His loving father’s heart rejoice;
She is a wife whose only jewellery
Is her dear husband’s joy and bliss;
He the true friend whose actions are the
same
In peaceful days or hours of bale and
shame;
These three who wins, finds earth his
Paradise.
The Ways of the Good
Who would not honour good men and revere
Whose loftiness by modesty is shown,
Whose merits not by their own vaunts
appear,
Best in their constant praise of others known,
And for another’s good each power to brace
To passionate effort is their selfishness.
Hark to their garrulous slanderer’s gurge of blame
Foaming with censure violent and rude!
Yet they revile not back, but put to shame
By their sweet patience and calm fortitude.
Such are their marvellous moods, their noble ways,
Whom men delight to honour and to praise.
Wealth of Kindness
Tis more than earrings when the ear
inclines
To wisdom; giving bracelets rich exceeds.
So the beneficent heart’s deep-stored mines
Are worked for ore of sweet compassionate deeds,
And with that gold the very body shines.
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The Good Friend
Thus is the good friend pictured
by the pens
Of good men: — still with gentle hand he turns
From sin and shame his friend,
to noble gains
Still spurs him on; deep in his
heart inurns
His secret errors, blares his
parts abroad,
Gives at his need, nor takes the
traitor’s road
Leaving with facile wings when
fortune spurns.
The Nature of
Beneficence
Freely the sun gives all his
beams to wake
The lotus slumbering in the
darkened lake;
The moon unasked expends her
gentle light,
Wooing to bloom her lily of the
night;
Unasked the cloud its watery
burden gives.
The noble nature in beneficence
lives;
Unsought, unsued, not asking
kindness back
Does good in secret for that
good’s sole sake.
The Abomination of
Wickedness
Rare are the hearts that for another’s joy
Fling from them self and hope of
their own bliss;
Himself unhurt for other’s good to try
Man’s impulse and his common
nature is:
But they who for their poor and
selfish aims
Hurt others, are but fiends with
human names.
Who hurt their brother-men,
themselves unhelped,
What they are we know not, nor
what horror whelped,
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Water and Milk
By water and sweet milk example Love.
Milk all its sweetness to the water gives,
For in one wedded self their friendship lives;
And when hot pangs the one to anguish move,
The other immolates itself to fire.
To steal his friend’s grief is a friend’s desire.
He seeing his friend’s hard state is minded too
To seek the flame; but happily again
Wedded to him is eased of all his pain.
This friendship is, one heart that’s shared by two.
Altruism Oceanic
Here Vishnu, sleeps, there find his foes their rest;
The hills have taken refuge;
serried lie
Their armies in deep Ocean’s
sheltering breast;
The clouds of doom are of his
heart possessed,
He harbours nether fire whence
he must die.
Cherisher of all in vast
equality,
Lo, the wide strong sublime and
patient sea!
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The Aryan Ethic
Hear the whole Gospel and the Law thereto: —
Speak truth, and in wise company abide;
Slay lust, thine enemy; abandon pride;
Patience and sweet forgiveness to thee woo;
Set not in sin thy pleasure, but in God;
Follow the path high feet before thee trod;
Give honour to the honourable; conceal
Thy virtues with a pudent veil of shame,
Yet cherish to the end a stainless fame;
Speak sweetness to thy haters and their weal
Pursue; show pity to unhappy men,
Lift up the fallen, heal the sufferer’s pain.
The Altruist
How rare is he who for his
fellows cares!
His mind, speech, body all are
as pure jars
Full of his soul’s sweet nectar;
so he goes
Filling the world with rows on
shining rows
Of selfless actions ranked like
the great stars.
He loves man so that he in
others’ hearts
Finding an atom even of noble
parts
Builds it into a mountain and
thereon
His soul grows radiant like a
flower full-blown;
Others are praised, his
mind with pleasure starts.
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Mountain Moloy
Legends of golden hills the fancy please,
But though they were real silver and solid gold,
Yet are the trees they foster only trees.
Moloy shall have my vote with
whom, ‘tis told,
Harbouring the linden, pine and
basest thorn
Ennobled turn to scent and earth
adorn.
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