(New Discoveries, Vol. 3. p. 490. This undated poem is preserved in the archives of the Vedanta Centre, Cohasset, Massachusetts. Cf. "My Play is Done", Complete Works , VI.)

From life to life I am waiting here at the gates — they
        open not.
My tongue is parched with ceaseless prayers and dim
        my eyes have grown
With constant straining through the gloom to catch
        one ray long sought;
My heart is seized with dark despair, all hope well-
        nigh has flown.


And standing on life's narrow ridge, beneath the
        chasm I see —
Strife and sorrow, darkness deep of whirling life and
Of mad commotion, struggles vain, of folly roaming

On one side this dark abyss — I shudder to see it even —
        On the other this wall . . .