Classic Poem

O Lord, merciful to the poor and generous, there is none beside Thee.
To whomsoever else I told my helplessness: I found him helpless too.
Munis, gods, men, serpent-god: masters many I know.
But so long as Thou art gracious, so long only is their life and power to aid.
In the three worlds doth Kal bear sway: so the four Vedas declare.
Beginning, end, and middle is Rama: and, all lordship is Thine.
Those who beg from Thee, none call them beggars.
Hearing the fame of Thy gentle generous nature, the people have come as beggars to Thee.
Thou art gracious to the poor: I am Thy poor.
Speak but once, O Lord, the words: “This Tulsi Das is mine.”