Page:Between the twilights being studies of Indian women by one of themselves (IA betweentwilights00soraiala).pdf/196



HE Hour of Union”—with the west, a red gold lake of fire, turning to the colour of smoke—there, behind the tall gray steeple from which comes the Christian’s call to prayer.

The crows which have been so noisy all day long spread their wings for flight; the palms across the road and the great star-flower tree at my gate are among their bedding places, I know of old. All things travel toward the Silence, and my soul stretches herself at ease, up here in the open spaces of my roof.

What is it saying, the Christian Bell? “Vivos Voco: mortuos plango: fulgura frango,” speaking its unknown tongue to a people that understandeth not, nor wishes to understand. Vivos voco, vivos voco. … But no bell calls the Hindu to worship. She worships when