A beggar like me has but two hands, while the Giver’s treasure is inexhaustible. What shall I fill with it? I have but one storehouse; His loving acts are pouring into it; my tongue is weary of counting his gifts.
Tuka says, Now let me rest where I am, I will be as it were branded on His feet.
Tuka says, Now let me rest where I am, I will be as it were branded on His feet.