At last thou comest...

By Dhan Gopal Mukerji

At last thou comest;

Thy footsteps I hear across the ages,

Over wandering fancies,

Through shadows of dreams

Is thy coming, Queen of queens.

This shimmering summer of life

That thou bringest with thee

As a gift to my silent waiting

Is but what I prayed to bring

To the altar of thy coming.

I spread the seat of my soul,

For thee to rest thy tired limbs;

And wave the fan of my heart

To cool thy lotus-shaming face,

Lady of light, queen of grace.

Come to my bower of worship,

Where burns the incense of devotion,

Lay thy rose-robed body

In the shrine of my longing,

Where love's rainbow-songs are ringing.