ay in proud and sovereign scorn;
While some with gladness heard his solemn words,
All soon forgotten in the giddy whirl
Of daily business, daily joys and cares.
But some drank in his words with eager ears,
And asked him many questions, lingering long,
And often sought him in the sacred grove
To hear his burning words of living truth.
And day by day some noble Brahman youth
Forsook his wealth, forsook his home and friends,
And took the yellow robe and begging-bowl
To ask for alms where all had given him place,
Meeting with gentleness the rabble's gibes,
Meeting with smiles the Brahman's haughty scorn.
Thus, day by day, this school of prophets grew,
Beneath the banyan's columned, vaulted shade,
All earnest learners at the master's feet,
Until the city's busy, bustling throng
Had come to recognize the yellow robe,
The poor to know its wearer as a friend,
The sick and suffering as a comforter,
While to the dying pilgrim's glazing eyes
He seemed a messenger from higher worlds
Come down to raise his sinking spirit up
And guide his trembling steps to realms of rest.

A year has passed, and of this growing band
Sixty are rooted, grounded in the faith,
Willing to do whate'er the master bids,
Ready to go where'er the master sends,
Eager to join returning pilgrim-bands
And bear the truth to India's farthest bounds.

With joy the master saw their burning zeal,
So free from selfishness, so full of love,
And thought of all those blindly groping souls
To whom these messengers would bear the light.

"Go," said the master, "each a different way.
Go teach the common brotherhood of man.
Preach Dharma, preach the law of perfect love,
One law for high and low, for rich and poor.
Teach all to shun the cudgel and the sword,
And treat with kindness every living thing.
Teach them to shun all theft and craft and greed,
All bitter thoughts, and false and slanderous speech
That severs friends and stirs up strife and hate.
Revere your own, revile no brother's faith.
The light you see is from Nirvana's Sun,
Whose rising splendors promise perfect day.
The feeble rays that light your brother's path
Are from the selfsame Sun, by falsehoods hid,
The lingering shadows of the passing night.
Chide none with ignorance, but teach the truth
Gently, as mothers guide their infants' steps,
Lest your rude manners drive them from the way
Tha