Chapter 21

end-azan

He who died at Azan sendsThis to comfort all his friends.

He who died at Azan sendsThis to comfort all his friends.

He who died at Azan sendsThis to comfort all his friends.

He who died at Azan sends

This to comfort all his friends.

Faithful friends!Itlies, I know,Pale and white and cold as snow;And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"Weeping at the feet and head.I can see your falling tears,I can hear your sighs and prayers;Yet I smile and whisper this—"Iam not the thing you kiss:Cease your tears and let it lie;Itwasmine, it is not 'I.'"Sweet friends! what the women lave,For its last bed of the grave,Is but a hut which I am quitting,Is a garment no more fitting,Is a cage, from which at last,Like a hawk, my soul hath passed.Love the inmate, not the room—The wearer, not the garb—the plumeOf the falcon, not the barsWhich kept him from the splendid stars;Loving friends! Be wise, and dryStraightway every weeping eye:What ye lift upon the bierIs not worth a wistful tear.'Tis an empty sea-shell—oneOut of which the pearl has gone;The shell is broken—it lies there;The pearl, the all, the soul is here.'T is an earthen jar, whose lidAllah sealed, the while it hidThe treasure of his treasury,A mind that loved him; let it lie?Let the shard be earth's once more,Since the gold shines in his store!Allah glorious! Allah good!Now thy world is understood;Now the long, long wonder ends;Yet ye weep, my erring friends,While the man whom ye call dead,In unspoken bliss, instead,Lives and loves you; lost, 't is true,By such a light as shines for you;But in the light ye can not seeOf unfulfilled felicity—In enlarging paradiseLives a life that never dies.Farewell, friends! Yet not farewellWhere I am ye, too, shall dwell.I am gone before your face,A moment's time, a little space;When ye come where I have steppedYe will wonder why ye wept;Ye will know, by wise love taught,That here is all and there is naught.Weep awhile, if ye are fain—Sunshine still must follow rain;Only not at death—for death,Now I know, is that first breathWhich our souls draw when we enterLife, which is of all life center.Be ye certain all seems love,Viewed from Allah's throne above;Be ye stout of heart, and comeBravely onward to your home!La Allah illa Allah!yea!Thou Love divine! Thou Love alway!

Faithful friends!Itlies, I know,Pale and white and cold as snow;And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"Weeping at the feet and head.I can see your falling tears,I can hear your sighs and prayers;Yet I smile and whisper this—"Iam not the thing you kiss:Cease your tears and let it lie;Itwasmine, it is not 'I.'"Sweet friends! what the women lave,For its last bed of the grave,Is but a hut which I am quitting,Is a garment no more fitting,Is a cage, from which at last,Like a hawk, my soul hath passed.Love the inmate, not the room—The wearer, not the garb—the plumeOf the falcon, not the barsWhich kept him from the splendid stars;Loving friends! Be wise, and dryStraightway every weeping eye:What ye lift upon the bierIs not worth a wistful tear.'Tis an empty sea-shell—oneOut of which the pearl has gone;The shell is broken—it lies there;The pearl, the all, the soul is here.'T is an earthen jar, whose lidAllah sealed, the while it hidThe treasure of his treasury,A mind that loved him; let it lie?Let the shard be earth's once more,Since the gold shines in his store!Allah glorious! Allah good!Now thy world is understood;Now the long, long wonder ends;Yet ye weep, my erring friends,While the man whom ye call dead,In unspoken bliss, instead,Lives and loves you; lost, 't is true,By such a light as shines for you;But in the light ye can not seeOf unfulfilled felicity—In enlarging paradiseLives a life that never dies.Farewell, friends! Yet not farewellWhere I am ye, too, shall dwell.I am gone before your face,A moment's time, a little space;When ye come where I have steppedYe will wonder why ye wept;Ye will know, by wise love taught,That here is all and there is naught.Weep awhile, if ye are fain—Sunshine still must follow rain;Only not at death—for death,Now I know, is that first breathWhich our souls draw when we enterLife, which is of all life center.Be ye certain all seems love,Viewed from Allah's throne above;Be ye stout of heart, and comeBravely onward to your home!La Allah illa Allah!yea!Thou Love divine! Thou Love alway!

Faithful friends!Itlies, I know,Pale and white and cold as snow;And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"Weeping at the feet and head.I can see your falling tears,I can hear your sighs and prayers;Yet I smile and whisper this—"Iam not the thing you kiss:Cease your tears and let it lie;Itwasmine, it is not 'I.'"Sweet friends! what the women lave,For its last bed of the grave,Is but a hut which I am quitting,Is a garment no more fitting,Is a cage, from which at last,Like a hawk, my soul hath passed.Love the inmate, not the room—The wearer, not the garb—the plumeOf the falcon, not the barsWhich kept him from the splendid stars;

Faithful friends!Itlies, I know,

Pale and white and cold as snow;

And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"

Weeping at the feet and head.

I can see your falling tears,

I can hear your sighs and prayers;

Yet I smile and whisper this—

"Iam not the thing you kiss:

Cease your tears and let it lie;

Itwasmine, it is not 'I.'"

Sweet friends! what the women lave,

For its last bed of the grave,

Is but a hut which I am quitting,

Is a garment no more fitting,

Is a cage, from which at last,

Like a hawk, my soul hath passed.

Love the inmate, not the room—

The wearer, not the garb—the plume

Of the falcon, not the bars

Which kept him from the splendid stars;

Loving friends! Be wise, and dryStraightway every weeping eye:What ye lift upon the bierIs not worth a wistful tear.'Tis an empty sea-shell—oneOut of which the pearl has gone;The shell is broken—it lies there;The pearl, the all, the soul is here.'T is an earthen jar, whose lidAllah sealed, the while it hidThe treasure of his treasury,A mind that loved him; let it lie?Let the shard be earth's once more,Since the gold shines in his store!

Loving friends! Be wise, and dry

Straightway every weeping eye:

What ye lift upon the bier

Is not worth a wistful tear.

'Tis an empty sea-shell—one

Out of which the pearl has gone;

The shell is broken—it lies there;

The pearl, the all, the soul is here.

'T is an earthen jar, whose lid

Allah sealed, the while it hid

The treasure of his treasury,

A mind that loved him; let it lie?

Let the shard be earth's once more,

Since the gold shines in his store!

Allah glorious! Allah good!Now thy world is understood;Now the long, long wonder ends;Yet ye weep, my erring friends,While the man whom ye call dead,In unspoken bliss, instead,Lives and loves you; lost, 't is true,By such a light as shines for you;But in the light ye can not seeOf unfulfilled felicity—In enlarging paradiseLives a life that never dies.

Allah glorious! Allah good!

Now thy world is understood;

Now the long, long wonder ends;

Yet ye weep, my erring friends,

While the man whom ye call dead,

In unspoken bliss, instead,

Lives and loves you; lost, 't is true,

By such a light as shines for you;

But in the light ye can not see

Of unfulfilled felicity—

In enlarging paradise

Lives a life that never dies.

Farewell, friends! Yet not farewellWhere I am ye, too, shall dwell.I am gone before your face,A moment's time, a little space;When ye come where I have steppedYe will wonder why ye wept;Ye will know, by wise love taught,That here is all and there is naught.

Farewell, friends! Yet not farewell

Where I am ye, too, shall dwell.

I am gone before your face,

A moment's time, a little space;

When ye come where I have stepped

Ye will wonder why ye wept;

Ye will know, by wise love taught,

That here is all and there is naught.

Weep awhile, if ye are fain—Sunshine still must follow rain;Only not at death—for death,Now I know, is that first breathWhich our souls draw when we enterLife, which is of all life center.

Weep awhile, if ye are fain—

Sunshine still must follow rain;

Only not at death—for death,

Now I know, is that first breath

Which our souls draw when we enter

Life, which is of all life center.

Be ye certain all seems love,Viewed from Allah's throne above;Be ye stout of heart, and comeBravely onward to your home!La Allah illa Allah!yea!Thou Love divine! Thou Love alway!

Be ye certain all seems love,

Viewed from Allah's throne above;

Be ye stout of heart, and come

Bravely onward to your home!

La Allah illa Allah!yea!

Thou Love divine! Thou Love alway!

He that died at Azan gaveThis to those who made his grave.

He that died at Azan gaveThis to those who made his grave.

He that died at Azan gaveThis to those who made his grave.

He that died at Azan gave

This to those who made his grave.

The End


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