(99) No more does the sun go away or depart from its seat, but retains and keeps its own place to itself, as a heart; and shineth forth as a light, or as a spirit of the whole body of this world, in all powers of the body.

(13) First behold the sun; it is the heart or king of all stars, and giveth light to all stars from the east to the west; it enlighteneth and warmeth all, all liveth and grows by its power; besides, the joy of all creatures consisteth in its virtue.

(1) I cleave the heaven, I open the horizon and I travel over the earth on foot. There come forward to me the Glorious and the Great ones, for I am furnished with numberless Words of Might

(4) And now if we look round about us every where, upon Heaven and Earth, the Stars and Elements, yet we can see and know no Way [or Passage] where we may go to our Rest; we see no other than the Way of the Entrance in of our Life, and then of the End of our Life, where our Body goes into the Earth, and all our Labour (also our Arts and Glory) is inherited by another, who also vexes himself therewith for a While, and then follows after us; and that continues so from the Beginning of the World to its End.

(51) The speaker throughout identifies himself with the divinity whose manifestation is the Sun; he is not the Sun of this or that moment but of Yesterday, To-day and of all eternity, the “One proceeding from the One.”

(15) Neither the sun, nor the moon, nor the fire can illumine that (state of Paramatma), which having reached, (men) do not return (take birth again); That is My Supreme Abode.

(119) Thus thou seest how the power or virtue of the Word and eternal life in the earth, and in its children, lies hidden in the centre in death, and springeth up through death, incomprehensibly as to the death, and continually travaileth in anguish to the birth of the light, and yet cannot flourish or bud, till the death be severed from it.

(114) And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing the immortal place, a life of one day is better if a man sees the immortal place.

(1) Whenever by delight or else by pain, That seizes any faculty of ours, Wholly to that the soul collects itself, It seemeth that no other power it heeds; And this against that error is which thinks One soul above another kindles in us. And hence, whenever aught is heard or seen Which keeps the soul intently bent upon it, Time passes on, and we perceive it not, Because one faculty is that which listens, And other that which the soul keeps entire; This is as if in bonds, and that is free. Of this I had experience positive In hearing and in gazing at that spirit; For fifty full degrees uprisen was The sun, and I had not perceived it, when We came to where those souls with one accord Cried out unto us: "Here is what you ask." A greater opening ofttimes hedges up With but a little forkful of his thorns The villager, what time the grape imbrowns, Than was the passage-way through which ascended Only my Leader and myself behind him, After that company departed from us.

(113) And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing beginning and end, a life of one day is better if a man sees beginning and end.

(8) So that we are left wondering whence it came, from within or without; and when it has gone, we say, "It was here. Yet no; it was beyond!" But we ought not to question whence; there is no whence, no coming or going in place; now it is seen and now not seen. We must not run after it, but fit ourselves for the vision and then wait tranquilly for its appearance, as the eye waits on the rising of the sun, which in its own time appears above the horizon- out of the ocean, as the poets say- and gives itself to our sight.

This Principle, of which the sun is an image, where has it its dawning, what horizon does it surmount to appear?

It stands immediately above the contemplating Intellect which has held itself at rest towards the vision, looking to nothing else than the good and beautiful, setting its entire being to that in a perfect surrender, and now tranquilly filled with power and taking a new beauty to itself, gleaming in the light of that presence.

This advent, still, is not by expectation: it is a coming without approach; the vision is not of something that must enter but of something present before all else, before the Intellect itself made any movement. Yet it is the Intellect that must move, to come and to go- going because it has not known where it should stay and where that presence stays, the nowhere contained.

And if the Intellect, too, could hold itself in that nowhere- not that it is ever in place; it too is uncontained, utterly unplaced- it would remain for ever in the vision of its prior, or, indeed, not in vision but in identity, all duality annulled. But it is Intellect and, when it is to see, it must see by that in it which is not Intellect .

No doubt it is wonderful that The First should thus be present without any coming, and that, while it is nowhere, nowhere is it not; but wonderful though this be in itself, the contrary would be more wonderful to those who know. Of course neither this contrary nor the wonder at it can be entertained. But we must explain:

(2) For as the sun the sight that trembles most, Even so the memory of that sweet smile My mind depriveth of its very self. From the first day that I beheld her face In this life, to the moment of this look, The sequence of my song has ne'er been severed; But now perforce this sequence must desist From following her beauty with my verse, As every artist at his uttermost. Such as I leave her to a greater fame Than any of my trumpet, which is bringing Its arduous matter to a final close, With voice and gesture of a perfect leader She recommenced: "We from the greatest body Have issued to the heaven that is pure light; Light intellectual replete with love, Love of true good replete with ecstasy, Ecstasy that transcendeth every sweetness. Here shalt thou see the one host and the other Of Paradise, and one in the same aspects Which at the final judgment thou shalt see." Even as a sudden lightning that disperses The visual spirits, so that it deprives The eye of impress from the strongest objects,

(2) At the third watch the disk of the sun sends out shining rays. On the water blows the wind of gentleness. Wandering in Heaven, one eats the spirit-power of the receptive. And the deeper secret within the secret: The land that is nowhere, that is the true home....

(48) For as the sun stands in the midst, between the stars and the earth, enlightening all powers, and is the light and heart of all the powers, and is all the joy in this world, besides, all beauty and pleasantness stands in the light and power of the sun.

(2) When they became aware I gave no place For passage of the sunshine through my body, They changed their song into a long, hoarse "Oh!" And two of them, in form of messengers, Ran forth to meet us, and demanded of us, "Of your condition make us cognisant." And said my Master: "Ye can go your way And carry back again to those who sent you, That this one's body is of very flesh. If they stood still because they saw his shadow, As I suppose, enough is answered them; Him let them honour, it may profit them." Vapours enkindled saw I ne'er so swiftly At early nightfall cleave the air serene, Nor, at the set of sun, the clouds of August, But upward they returned in briefer time, And, on arriving, with the others wheeled Tow'rds us, like troops that run without a rein. "This folk that presses unto us is great, And cometh to implore thee," said the Poet; "So still go onward, and in going listen." "O soul that goest to beatitude With the same members wherewith thou wast born," Shouting they came, "a little stay thy steps,

(16) You have toiled without cease, and what have you got! Through toil you wear yourself out, you fill your body with grief, your long lifetime you are bringing near (to a premature end)! Mankind, whose offshoot is snapped off like a reed in a canebreak, the fine youth and lovely girl... death. No one can see death, no one can see the face of death, no one can hear the voice of death, yet there is savage death that snaps off mankind. For how long do we build a household? For how long do we seal a document! For how long do brothers share the inheritance? For how long is there to be jealousy in the land(!)! For how long has the river risen and brought the overflowing waters, so that dragonflies drift down the river! The face that could gaze upon the face of the Sun has never existed ever.

(2) So, then, [man] hath his place in the more blessed station of the Midst; so that he loves [all] those below himself, and in his turn is loved by those above. He tills the Earth. He mingles with the Elements by reason of the swiftness of his mind. He plunges into the Sea’s depths by means of its profundity. He puts his values on all things. Heaven seems not too high for him; for it is measured by the wisdom of his mind as though it were quite near. No darkness of the Air obstructs the penetration of his mind. No density of Earth impedes his work. No depth of Water blunts his sight. [Though still] the same [yet] is he all, and everywhere is he the same.

(57) Now you may well perceive that the Birth of the Sun takes its Original in the Fire, and attains his Personality and Name in the Kindling of the soft, white, and clear Light, which is Himself; and Himself makes the pleasant Smell, Taste, and Satisfaction [or Reconciliation and Well-pleasing] in the Father, and is rightly the Father's Heart, and another Person; for he opens and produces the second Principle in the Father; and his own Essence is the Power or Virtue and the Light; and therefore his is rightly called the Power or Virtue of the Father.

(90) There is no suffering for him who has finished his journey, and abandoned grief, who has freed himself on all sides, and thrown off all fetters.

(1) We were upon the summit of the stairs, Where for the second time is cut away The mountain, which ascending shriveth all. There in like manner doth a cornice bind The hill all round about, as does the first, Save that its arc more suddenly is curved. Shade is there none, nor sculpture that appears; So seems the bank, and so the road seems smooth, With but the livid colour of the stone. "If to inquire we wait for people here," The Poet said, "I fear that peradventure Too much delay will our election have." Then steadfast on the sun his eyes he fixed, Made his right side the centre of his motion, And turned the left part of himself about. "O thou sweet light! with trust in whom I enter Upon this novel journey, do thou lead us," Said he, "as one within here should be led. Thou warmest the world, thou shinest over it; If other reason prompt not otherwise, Thy rays should evermore our leaders be!" As much as here is counted for a mile, So much already there had we advanced In little time, by dint of ready will;