Tukaram, Poem 1514

Perhaps the saints have now taken leave;
they have entered the temple precincts.
They have eaten the dish of auspicious curds, they
have started with good omens in a lucky hour.
Their throats are choked with sobs; their hearts
are swelling with the sorrow of parting. They
meet with loving embraces, the saints have consoled
each other. Tuka says, They cannot bear to think
of departing, they turn back ever and anon to see
the temple spire.