Page:Original manuscript of Gitanjali - Rabindranath Tagore - Rothenstein collection.pdf/11

 Thou hast made me endless, such is thy pleasure. This frail vessel thou emptiest again, and fillest it ever with fresher life.

This little flute of a reed thou hast carried over hills and dales and hast breathed through it melodies eternally new. At the immortal touch of thy hands my little heart loses its limits in a great joy and gives birth to utterance ineffable. Thy infinite gifts come to me only on these very small hands of mine. Ages pass and still thou pourest and still there is room to fill. Rh