The union is already accomplished. The _paramātman_, the supreme soul, has himself chosen this soul of ours as his bride and the marriage has been completed. The solemn _mantram_ has been uttered: _Let thy heart be even as my heart is._ [Footnote: Yadetat hŗidayam mama tadastu hŗidayan tava.] There is no room in this marriage for evolution to act the part of the master of ceremonies. The _eshah_, who cannot otherwise be described than as _This_, the nameless immediate presence, is ever here in our innermost being. "This _eshah_, or _This_, is the supreme end of the other this"; [Footnote: Eshāsya paramā gatih] "this _This_ is the supreme treasure of the other this"; [Footnote: Eshāsya paramā sampat.] "this _This_ is the supreme dwelling of the other this"; [Footnote: Eshāsya paramo lokah] "this _This_ is the supreme joy of the other this." [Footnote: Eshāsya parama ānandah] Because the marriage of supreme love has been accomplished in timeless time. And now goes on the endless _līlā_, the play of love. He who has been gained in eternity is now being pursued in time and space, in joys and sorrows, in this world and in the worlds beyond. When the soul-bride understands this well, her heart is blissful and at rest. She knows that she, like a river, has attained the ocean of her fulfilment at one end of her being, and at the other end she is ever attaining it; at one end it is eternal rest and completion, at the other it is incessant movement and change. When she knows both ends as inseparably connected, then she knows the world as her own household by the right of knowing the master of the world as her own lord. Then all her services becomes services of love, all the troubles and tribulations of life come to her as trials triumphantly borne to prove the strength of her love, smilingly to win the wager from her lover. But so long as she remains obstinately in the dark, lifts not her veil, does not recognise her lover, and only knows the world dissociated from him, she serves as a handmaid here, where by right she might reign as a queen; she sways in doubt, and weeps in sorrow and dejection. _She passes from starvation to starvation, from trouble to trouble, and from fear to fear._ [Footnote: Daurbhikshāt yāti daurbhiksham kleçāt kleçam bhayāt bhayam.] I can never forget that scrap of a song I once heard in the early dawn in the midst of the din of the crowd that had collected for a festival the night before: "Ferryman, take me across to the other shore!" In the bustle of all our work there comes out this cry, "Take me across." The carter in India sings while driving his cart, "Take me across." The itinerant grocer deals out his goods to his customers and sings, "Take me across".