Swai Vivekananda
If thgs go ill or well,
If joy reboundg spreads the face,
Or sea of sorrows swells,
It is a drea, a py.
A py, we each have a part
Eae to weep h as ay;
Eae his dress to don,
Alternate she or ra.
Thy touch akes desert bloo to life,
Harsh thunder, sweetest song,
Fell death, the sweet release.
Thou drea, O blessed drea!
Spread far ahy veil of haze,
Tone down the les so sharp,
Make sooth what roughness sees.
No agic butthee!