By Swami Vivekananda
The mother’s heart, the hero’s will,
The sweetness of the southern breeze,
The sacred charm and strength that dwell
On Aryan Altars, flaming, free;
All these be yours and many more
No ancient soul could dream before-
Be thou to India’s future son
The mistress, servant, friend in one.
Courtesy: RKM Darjeeling
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