violent and conflicting philosophies and faiths. All are needed,
if he is ever to suggest the character of that One whom the
Upanishad called "the Sun-coloured Being who is beyond this
Darkness": as all the colours of the spectrum are needed if we
would demonstrate the simple richness of white light. In thus
adapting traditional materials to his own use he follows a method
common amongst the mystics; who seldom exhibit any special love
for originality of form. They will pour their wine into almost
any vessel that comes to hand: generally using by preference--and
lifting to new levels of beauty and significance--the religious or
philosophic formulæ current in their own day. Thus we find that
some of Kabîr's finest poems have as their subjects the
commonplaces of Hindu philosophy and religion: the Lîlâ or Sport of
God, the Ocean of Bliss, the Bird of the Soul, Mâyâ, the Hundred-
petalled Lotus, and the "Formless Form." Many, again, are soaked
in Sûfî imagery and feeling. Others use as their material the
ordinary surroundings and incidents of Indian life: the temple bells,
the ceremony of the lamps, marriage, suttee, pilgrimage, the
characters of the seasons; all felt by him in their mystical aspect,
as sacraments of the soul's relation with Brahma. In many of these
a particularly beautiful and intimate feeling for Nature is shown.
[Footnote: Nos. XV, XXIII, LXVII, LXXXVII, XCVII.]

In the collection of songs here translated there will be found
examples which illustrate nearly every aspect of Kabîr's thought,
and all the fluctuations of the mystic's emotion: the ecstasy,
the despair, the still beatitude, the eager self-devotion, the
flashes of wide illumination, the moments of intimate love. His
wide and deep vision of the universe, the "Eternal Sport" of
creation (LXXXII), the worlds being "told like beads" within the