Is the Siva manifested at one shrine so distinct from the Siva manifested at another as to endanger the unity of God? If tradition is right, the danger is very real, for Sundarar was already worshipping at one shrine, Tiruvottiyur, when he remembered the lord of Arur, and deciding to go to him like a returning prodigal, sang this stanza.

68. Ah sinful, I have left the path of love and service pure!
Now know I well the meaning of my sickness and my pain.
I will go worship. Fool! how long can I so far remain
From Him, my pearl, my diamond rare, the king of great Arur.

The joy in God which shines in our next hymn evidently rests on some experience of divine grace which we should have liked to hear more definitely described.

69. O madman with the moon-crowned hair,
Thou lord of men, thou fount of grace,
How to forget Thee could I bear?
My soul hath aye for Thee a place.
Venney-nallur, in "Grace's shrine"
South of the stream of Pennai, there
My father, I became all thine;
How could I now myself forswear?

70. I roamed, a cur, for many days
Without a single thought of Thee,
Roamed and grew weary, then such grace
As none could win Thou gayest me.
Venney-nallur, in "Grace's shrine"
Where bamboos fringe the Pennai, there
My Shepherd, I became all thine;
How could I now myself forswear?

71. Henceforth for me no birth, no death,
No creeping age, bull-rider mine.
Sinful and full of lying breath
Am I, hut do Thou mark me Thine.
Venney-nallur, in "Graces shrine"
South of the wooded Pennai, there
My Master, I became all thine;
How could I now myself forswear?

The varying mood of the saint, now joyous and triumphant, now plaintively looking for death, is reflected in the next two verses from one hymn.

72. Linked to naught else in life, my mind thinks only of Thy holy feet.
I'm born anew, from this time forth I pass the way of birth no more.
In Kodumudi, lord austere, where wise men Thee with praises greet,
Should I forget Thee, my own tongue 'Hail, Siva'! crying, would adore.

73. When will the end draw nigh, sense fade, life close, and I the bier ascend?
This, naught but this, is all my thought. But, lord of speech, Thou light on high,
Where the bright streams of Kaviri to Kodumudi coolness lend,
Should I forget Thee, my own tongue to Thee would loud 'Hail, Siva' cry.

God should deliver His own from death. The appeal here is to the familiar story of Markandeya (see No. 3). Yama is the god of death who gathers in the souls of men.