to the Beggar at the gate.

All things made he⁠—Shiva the Preserver,

Mahadeo! Mahadeo! he made all⁠—

Thorn for the camel, fodder for the kine,

And mother’s heart for sleepy head, O little son of mine!

Wheat he gave to rich folk, millet to the poor,

Broken scraps for holy men that beg from door to door;