Page:Original manuscript of Gitanjali - Rabindranath Tagore - Rothenstein collection.pdf/141

 love bearing Thou art the sky and thou art the nest as well. Oh there beautifuel, there in the nest it is they that encloses the soul with colours and sounds and odours. There comes the morning with the golden koetelieno basket on her right hang the wreath of enlly to crown the earth. And there comes the evening e evening over the lonely inedas deserted by herde, through trackless paths, carrying cool draught of peace in her golden pitcher from the western of reean of rest, And there where spread the infinite sky for the soul to take flight riges the white radiance. There is noday nor night, nor form nor colour, and never never a word. 69