The Way of Poverty
Thou hadst no servants to attend on Thee;
Then why this pomp of household state for me?
Coarse fare and scanty was Thy portion, Lord;
Then why for me this richly-furnished board?
Thou hadst not where to lay Thy head to rest;
Then why should I of mansions be possessed?
Ah, hapless I! What is this tyranny?
How dost Thou laugh and make a mock of me!
Ah, take from me this burden that doth bow
My head! blest ocean of all love art Thou!
I speak in anger, Lord; yet, if Thou too
Reject my prayer, what can Thy servant do?
Saith Dāsa, Christ, upon Thy pallet-bed
Grant me a little space to lay my head.
Nārāyan Vāman Tilak.