। ॥ ४९ ॥
In plain words
Let devotion grow in me as a vine grows: rooted in the watering-basin at Hara's lotus feet, flooded with the nectar of bliss, leaning its whole weight on the post of steadfastness, throwing out branch after branch after branch, climbing high until it covers the entire trellis of my mind — stainless, always in fruit, always the fruit I longed for, watered by good work. Let that vine be mine.
Close to the Sanskrit
Filled with the nectar of bliss, sprung up in the watering-basin of Hara's lotus-feet, having reached the prop of steadfastness, furnished with branches and sub-branches, having climbed high over the canopy of the bower that is the mind, stainless, ever-yielding the longed-for fruit — may the slender creeper of devotion, nourished by good deeds, be mine.