The Heart's Desire

O God, my cry comes up to thee,
How sad a cry is it!
What is this tragic destiny
That fate for me has writ?

Wherefore, O Hrislkes, dost thou
So lightly pass me by?
To whom, to whom but to thee now
Can I lift up my cry?

As chiming anklets sweetly ring
So rings thy name abroad;
To human spirits hungering
Thou givest peace with God.

Thou on thy shoulders carrying
All the world's load of care, —
To thee 'tis such a little thing
My trouble too to bear!

O Mother Pandurang, I cry,
Drive thou me not away.
At Hari's feet I, Nama, lie;
He will not say me nay.