fear and the head held high, where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow walls, where the mind is led forward into ever-widening thought and action:
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake!
Beside this patriot-prayer you may put his song of "The Woman in Sorrow," who, like the wife of the murdered Burgomaster, was not to be comforted by the shout of conquest:
I seated her upon a car of victory and drove her from end to end of the earth.
Conquered hearts bowed down at her feet; shouts of applause rang in the sky.
Pride shone in her eyes for a moment; then it was dimmed in tears.
"I have no joy in conquest," she cried, the woman in sorrow.
But take another page from Sādhanā—one which is not veiled in parable:
"Whenever some ancient civilisation fell into decay and died, it was owing to causes which produced callousness of heart and led to the cheapening of man's worth; when either the state or some powerful group of men began to
