tiruvAcagam or The Sacred Utterances of the Tamil Poet, Saint and ...

XVII. He saved me from senses' bondage
In pleasures false I plunged, and sank deep down,-
each day of earthly prosperous joy,
I thought it true, and thus enslaved I lay;
in grace revealed, He made me His !
Call Him 'my Teacher' 'precious Life', 'great Lord,
of Tillai's sacred temple-court;
And seek those selfsame roseate flowery Feet,
TO BREATHE HIS PRAISE, THOU HUMMING-BEE ! (68)
XVIII. Civan as depicted in ancient myths.
The tiger's skin, the robe, the pendants rare,
the ears' round golden ornaments,
The ashes white as milk, the sandal paste
so cool and sweet, the parrot green,
The trident, and the armless linked: this pomp,
and ancient fair array He owns,
Regarding well, with joyous soul go thou,
AND BREATHE HIS PRAISE, O HUMMING-BEE ! (72)
XIX. Visited me, nor despised my unworthiness
'Deceiver' ' sinner vile' 'rebellious one,'
all this to me He did not say;
The Generous One came oft to visit me,
nor took His Presence from my mind !
Of all the pains that fill'd my soul, no one
in any wise was left with me !
So to His gleaming jeweled Foot go thou,
AND BREATHE HIS PRAISE, O HUMMING-BEE ! (76)
XX. His grace to the lowly
Ayan, who crowns the lotus flower, and MAl
were grieved - for He was hard to reach !
But I, His lowly slave, all jubilant
fulfilled of exultation stood !
To me, mere cur, He gave a lofty seat,
endued right well with worthiness !
To Him, Whose form is fiery flame, go thou,
AND BREATHE HIS PRAISE, O HUMMING-BEE ! (80)
-----------------