To the God of Pain, by Sarojini Naidu

To the God of Pain

Unwilling priestess in thy cruel fane,

Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain

Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows

My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows

Anointed with perpetual weariness

Long have I borne thy service, through the stress

Of righteous years, sad days and slumberless nights

Performing thine inexorable rites.

For thy dark altars, balm nor milk nor rice,

But mine own soul thou’st ta’en for sacrifice;

All the rich honey of my youth’s desire,

And all the sweet oils from my crushed life drawn,

And all my flower-like dreams and gem-like fire

Of hopes up-leaping like the light of dawn.

I have no more to give, all that was mine

Is laid, a wrested tribute, at thy shrine;

Let me depart, for my whole soul is wrung,

And all my cheerless orisons are sung;

Let me depart, with faint limbs let me creep

To some dim shade and sink me down to sleep.

Sarojini Naidu