Here Buddha saw the mystery of life At last unfolded to its hidden depths. He saw that selfishness was sorrow's root, And ignorance its dense and deadly shade; He saw that selfishness bred lust and hate, Deformed the features, and defiled the soul And closed its windows to those waves of love That flow perennial from Nirvana's Sun. He saw that groveling lusts and base desires Like noxious weeds unchecked luxurious grow, Making a tangled jungle of the soul, Where no good seed can find a place to root, Where noble purposes and pure desires And gentle thoughts wither and fade and die Like flowers beneath the deadly upas-tree. He saw that selfishness bred grasping greed, And made the miser, made the prowling thief, And bred hypocrisy, pretense, deceit, And made the bigot, made the faithless priest, Bred anger, cruelty, and thirst for blood, And made the tyrant, stained the murderer's knife, And filled the world with war and want and woe, And filled the dismal regions of the lost With fiery flames of passions never quenched, With sounds of discord, sounds of clanking chains, With cries of anguish, howls of bitter hate, Yet saw that man was free--not bound and chained[2] Helpless and hopeless to a whirling wheel, Rolled on resistless by some cruel power, Regardless of their cries and prayers and tears-- Free to resist those gross and groveling lusts, Free to obey Nirvana's law of love, The law of order--primal, highest law-- Which guides the great Artificer himself, Who weaves the garments of the joyful spring, Who paints the glories of the passing clouds, Who tunes the music of the rolling spheres, Guided by love in all His mighty works, Filling with love the humblest willing heart. He saw that love softens and sweetens life, And stills the passions, soothes the troubled breast, Fills homes with joy and gives the nations peace, A sovereign balm for all the spirit's wounds, The living fountain of Nirvana's bliss; For here before his eyes were countless souls, Born to the sorrows of a sinful world, With burdens bowed, by cares and griefs oppressed, Who felt for others' sorrows as their own, Who lent a helping hand to those in need, Returning good for evil, love for hate, Whose garments now were white as spotless wool, Whose faces beamed with gentleness and love, As onward, upward, devas guide their steps, Nirvana's happy mansions full in view.