There is no caste in blood.
Early violets blue and white Dying for their love of light.
No power on earth compares to a mother's tender prayers.
A little rain will fill The lily's cup which hardly moistens the field.
Never the spirit was born; the spirit shall cease to be never; Never was time it was not; End and Beginning are dreams! Birth-less and deathless and changeless remaineth the spirit forever. Death hath not touched it all, dead though the house of it seems!
Like threads of silver seen through crystal beads Let love through good deeds show.