Yet

Thy gifts to us mortals fulfil all our needs and yet run back to Thee undiminished.
The river has its everyday work to do and hastens through fields and hamlets; yet its incessant stream winds towards the washing of Thy feet.
The flower sweetens the air with its perfume; yet its last service is to offer itself to Thee.
Thy worship does not impoverish the world.

— Tagore

From the words of the Poet, no doubt, men take whatever meaning pleases them; yet their last meanings point to Thee, O Lord!