Commemoration of Pandita Mary Ramabai, Translator of the Scriptures, 1922 A memory of yesterday's pleasures, a fear of tomorrow's dangers, a straw under my knees, a noise in my ear, a light in my eye, an anything, a nothing, a fancy, a chimera in my brain, troubles me in my prayers.

To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.

Good is not good, unless A thousand it possess, But doth waste with greediness.

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

Our faults are not seen, But past us; neither felt, but only in The punishment.

Our critical day is not the very day of our death; but the whole course of our life.

Licence my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below.