or if the slain think he is slain
they know not well the subtle ways
I keep and pass and turn again
Far or forgot to me is near
shadow and sunlight are the same
the vanished gods to me appear
and on to me are shame and fame
They reckon ill who leaves me out
when me they fly
I am the wings
I am the doubter and the doubt
and I the hymn the Brahmin sings
The strong gods pine for my abode
and pine in vain the sacred seven
but thou meek lover of the good!
find me and turn thy back on heaven.