Classic Poem

O Lord, in this hour raise me up.
Thou art Master of the masterless, O Lord: Thy name is bountiful.
No good deeds done and blind from birth, who is more worthless than I?
Of the three worlds Thou art the Sustainer: I am Thy slave.
Thou, O Lord, didst draw to safety them of high and low degree: on me have mercy too.
Of all sinners I am chief, and of the lowest I am least.
A million sinners equal not my weight of sin, Ajamil to me is but a child.
At the sound of my name Faith fled away: Hell removed herself far off.
For me there is not resting place: O Lord, make sure Thy promise.
Many sinners hast Thou saved, O Lord: now harden not Thy heart.
Only then will Sur Das believe Thee true, when he too finds salvation.