Classic Poem

Let no one marvel when he hears the greatness wrought by the companionship of Sants.
The denizens of the waters, the earth, the air, a countless host, the creatures of the world conscious or unconscious.
Wisdom, fame, salvation, spiritual power and goodness, whoso found these and wheresoever and by whatsoever means.
Know that all these were their's through converse with the Sants: nor in the world, nor in the Vedas is there another method.
Without the companionship of Sants wisdom comes not: without Rama's favour this converse is not easy.
The companionship of Sants is the root of happiness and joy: perfection is the fruit and all other disciplines the flowers.
The evil become good by the companionship of Sants: as iron becomes precious by the touch of the magic stone.
By Brahma's appointing good men become companions of the bad: but as the serpent's jewel loses not its proper virtue, so with them.
Brahma, Hari, Har, the poets, the learned, the eloquent are shamed to sing the greatness of the Sadhus.
So I too have no skill to describe it, as a seller of greens can not tell the quality of a gem.
In thought I bow before the company of Sants—to whom no one is either friend or foe.
As fresh flowers heaped in the hollow hands, make both the hands alike sweet scented.