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By Ananda Maitriya. (Allan Bennett)

The work is over, and the weary pen

Murmurs no more,—the midnight oil is spent;

Our Message uttered, now beyond our ken,

Out of the East, whence dawns the Light, ’tis sent.


Thus have we heard the Message of His Peace;

Thus have we told it,—from out Golden Fane;

Thus give it, that his Glory may increase;

So are we happy,—we shall hear again!


His Light go with thee to the waiting West,

Tale that we told in many a changeful strain:

Tale that we hold of all fair gifts the best;

Gift of the Law, with Love as thy refrain!


Our words not only! Tell afar, abroad,

The Tale that thrills our Hearts who bear His Name:

Tell as He told it,—He, the Stainless Lord,—

Not as we falter, but in Words of Flame!

(Allan Bennett)


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