THE DANCE OF SHIVA 
 
Written at the House of Sri Parananda Swami, Ceylon. 
 
WITH feet set terribly dancing, 
With eyelids filled of flame, 
Wild lightnings from Him glancing, 
Lord Shiva went and came. 
The dancing of His feet was heard 
And was the final word. 
 
He danced the measure golden 
On dead men . . . 
His Saints and Rishis olden, 
The yogins that . . . 
He trampled them to dust and they 
Were sparks and no more clay. 
 
The dust thrown up around Him 
In cycles whirled and twined, 
Dim sparks that fled and found Him 
Like mist beyond the mind. 
The universe was peopled then 
With little gods, and men. 
 
In that ecstatic whirling 
He saw not nor . . . 
 
I09