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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=545289" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Angels Unawares</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Written on 1 September,1898.) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">  I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One bending low with load of life —<br>That meant no joy, but suffering harsh and hard —<br>And wending on his way through dark and dismal paths<br>Without a flash of light from brain or heart<br>To give a moment's cheer, till the line<br>That marks out pain from pleasure, death from life, <br>And good from what is evil was well-nigh wiped from sight, <br>Saw, one blessed night, a faint but beautiful ray of light<br>Descend to him. He knew not what or wherefrom, <br>But called it God and worshipped.<br>Hope, an utter stranger, came to him and spread<br>Through all his parts, and life to him meant more<br>Than he could ever dream and covered all he knew, <br>Nay, peeped beyond his world. The Sages<br>Winked, and smiled, and called it 'superstition'.<br>But he did feel its power and peace<br>And gently answered back —<br>    'O Blessed Superstition! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  II</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>One drunk with wine of wealth and power<br>And health to enjoy them both, whirled on<br>His maddening course, till the earth, he thought, <br>Was made for him, his pleasure-garden, and man, <br>The crawling worm, was made to find him sport, <br>Till the thousand lights of joy, with pleasure fed, <br>That flickered day and night before his eyes, <br>With constant change of colours, began to blur<br>His sight, and cloy his senses; till selfishness, <br>Like a horny growth, had spread all o'er his heart; <br>And pleasure meant to him no more than pain, <br>Bereft of feeling; and life in the sense, <br>So joyful, precious once, a rotting corpse between his arms, <br>Which he forsooth would shun, but more he tried, the more<br>It clung to him; and wished, with frenzied brain, <br>A thousand forms of death, but quailed before the charm, <br>Then sorrow came — and Wealth and Power went —<br>And made him kinship find with all the human race<br>In groans and tears, and though his friends would laugh, <br>His lips would speak in grateful accents —<br>    'O Blessed Misery! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">  III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One born with healthy frame — but not of will<br>That can resist emotions deep and strong, <br>Nor impulse throw, surcharged with potent strength —<br>And just the sort that pass as good and kind, <br>Beheld that he was safe, whilst others long<br>And vain did struggle 'gainst the surging waves.<br>Till, morbid grown, his mind could see, like flies<br>That seek the putrid part, but what was bad.<br>Then Fortune smiled on him, and his foot slipped.<br>That ope'd his eyes for e'er, and made him find<br>That stones and trees ne'er break the law, <br>But stones and trees remain; that man alone<br>Is blest with power to fight and conquer Fate, <br>Transcending bounds and laws.<br>From him his passive nature fell, and life appeared<br>As broad and new, and broader, newer grew, <br>Till light ahead began to break, and glimpse of That<br>Where Peace Eternal dwells — yet one can only reach<br>By wading through the sea of struggles — courage-giving, came.<br>Then looking back on all that made him kin<br>To stocks and stones, and on to what the world<br>Had shunned him for, his fall, he blessed the fall, <br>And with a joyful heart, declared it —<br>    'Blessed Sin! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Swami+Vivekananda">Swami Vivekananda</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=545289" data-title="Angels Unawares de Swami Vivekananda" data-description="(Written on 1 September,1898.) 

  I

One bending low with load of life —
That meant no joy, but suffering harsh and hard —
And wending on his way through dark and dismal paths
Without a flash of light from brain or heart
To give a moment's ch..."></div>
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