ignorance behind him, and is for ever awake. Says Ram Prasad:—
"From the land where there is no night
Has come One unto me.
And night and day are now nothing to me,
Ritual-worship has become for ever barren.
My sleep is broken. Shall I sleep any more?
Call it what you will—I am awake—
Hush! I have given back sleep unto Him whose it was.
Sleep have I put to sleep for ever.
The music has entered the instrument,
And of that mode I have learnt a song.
Ah! that music is playing ever before me,
For concentration is the great teacher thereof.
Prasad speaks—Understand, O Soul, these words of Wisdom."
But the great burden of his verses is the Mother. And in calling upon Her he becomes the ideal child. It is curious to reflect how a century and a half ago, almost a hundred years before the birth of childhood into European art, a great Indian singer and saint should have been deep in observation of the little ones—studying them, and
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