To read the poem, Oversoul is to think of the Bhagavad-Gita and its translation down the ages. Who are the writers, how are their translations? How are the commentaries on the Gita? The poem by Russell inspires to know it indirectly. The poem reminds us of Emerson’s Brahma. What is strange is that he is very, very mystical. A few can grapple with in such a way as he has Eastern mysticism and spirituality. We doubt why the Nobel Prize was not given to Russell. Krishna’s gospels dance before the eyes, the discourses given with regard to the soul, indelible and indestructible soul. His lessons in karma and dharma are really unforgettable lessons of life. It is His Light which lights it all. Very lucid, transmuting it all, he keeps the matter running.

Who is the One striking the chords of the heart? Earth, air, waves and fire all keep standing in awe and breathless silence.

The East is crowned with snow-cold bloom hanging with the veils of pearly fleece. But they died away into the gloom, vistas of peace and deeper peace.

What he describes can be found in Maharshi Aurobindo’s works. The rose of fire is the thing. The beauty of the rose, the mystery of it is splendid. The reddish glow makes it a fire.

Oversoul

I am Beauty itself among beautiful things
                                  —— Bhagavad-Gita.

The East was crowned with snow-cold bloom
And hung with veils of pearly fleece:
They died away into the gloom,
Vistas of peace — and deeper peace.
 
And earth and air and wave and fire
In awe and breathless silence stood;
For One who passed into their choir
Linked them in mystic brotherhood.
 
Twilight of amethyst, amid
Thy few strange stars that lit the heights,
Where was the secret spirit hid?
Where was Thy place, O Light of Lights?
 
The flame of Beauty far in space —
Where rose the fire: in Thee? in Me?
Which bowed the elemental race
To adoration silently?

Twilight of amethyst amid the few strange stars lighting the heights, where does it lie in the secret spirit hidden? Where is His place? Where is the Light of Lights?

It is a very beautiful poem. To paraphrase it is to lose the loveliness of the line. The flame of beauty is heavenly. The rose of fire, how mystical it is! The rose, the fire is Him, is in me. What is it that makes the race look unto in adoration? What is that makes uphold in reverence? How beautiful it is to see the rose! How the fire, the rose of fire!

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