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Fruit-Gathering by Rabindranath Tagore
page 63 of 68 (92%)

II

When the world sleeps I come to your door.

The stars are silent, and I am afraid to sing.

I wait and watch, till your shadow passes by the balcony of night
and I return with a full heart.

Then in the morning I sing by the roadside;

The flowers in the hedge give me answer and the morning air
listens,

The travellers suddenly stop and look in my face, thinking I have
called them by their names.


III

Keep me at your door ever attending to your wishes, and let me go
about in your Kingdom accepting your call.

Let me not sink and disappear in the depth of languor.

Let not my life be worn out to tatters by penury of waste.

Let not those doubts encompass me,--the dust of distractions.

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