Pandurang

Who asks if spent and weary we?
Who else, O Pandurang, but thee?

Whom shall we tell our joy or grief?
Who to our thirst will bring relief?

Who else this fever will assuage?
Who bear us o'er the ocean's rage?

Who will our heart's desire impart
And clasp us to his loving heart?

What other master shall we own?
What helper else but thee alone?

Ah, Tuka says, thou knowest all,
Prostrate before thy feet I fall.