ধ্বনিটিরে প্রতিধ্বনি সদা ব্যঙ্গ করে,
ধ্বনি কাছে ঋণী সে যে পাছে ধরা পড়ে।

RAIDAS, THE sweeper, sat still, lost in the solitude of his soul, and some songs born of his silent vision found their way to the Rani's heart,the Rani Jhali of Chitore.
Tears flowed from her eyes, her thoughts wandered away from her daily dudes, till she met Raidas who guided her to God's presence.
The old Brahmin priest of the King's house rebuked her for her desecration of sacred law by offering homage as a disciple to an outcaste.
'Brahmin,' the Rani answered, 'while you were busy tying your purse- strings of custom ever tighter, love's gold slipped unnoticed to the earth, and my Master in his divine humility has picked it up from the dust.
'Revel in your pride of the unmeaning knots without number, harden your miserly heart, but I, a beggar woman, am glad to receive love's wealth, the gift of the lowly dust, from my Master, the sweeper.'

I FOUND A few old letters of mine carefully hidden in her box- a few small toys for her memory to play with.
With a timorous heart she tried to steal these trifles from time's turbulent stream, and said, 'These are mine only!'
Ah, there is no one now to claim them, who can pay their price with loving care, yet here they are still.
Surely there is love in this world to save her from utter loss, even like this love of hers that saved these letters with such fond care.