Chapter XXII: Preface (8)

The barrier so upreared appears a level plain;
He knows not ’tis a bourn that checks him like a chain.
Thy witness is a barrier, bars sight of the Lord;
Thy teacher is a veil, shuts out God’s holy word.
How many infidels, oh! long faith to possess!
Their pride, their honour, stands between them and success.
That barrier, unseen, ’s than iron firmer still.
An axe can hew through iron; not through stubborn will. 20
A bond of iron may be broken by due means;
A moral bond is what holds firmest, where it leans.

A bee, a wasp, may sting one to the very quick;
Yet may the same be warded by precaution’s trick.
But what’s to do when sting is in our very selves?
The pain is then most biting, deeper far it delves.
Unwillingly has leaped this subject from my mind.
I fear ’twill leave despair in many, deep behind.
Despair thou not; take consolation to thy soul;
And cry to that Deliverer who can make thee whole: 25
“Thou Lover of forgiveness! Pardon to me grant!
Physician of the soul! Relieve my direful want!”

Such counsel wise drove mad that erring sinner, quite.
Think not of him. ’Twill tire thy mind beyond respite.
My friend! This counsel tells with equal force on thee.
It flows through all the saints, though transient thou it see.
Within the house a gleam of light has been espied.
This light comes from a neighbour’s lamp, with oil supplied.
Give thanks for it. Be not puffed up. Snort not, good man!
To me lend ear. Presumption chase to utmost span. 30
Alas! that this most transient ray of dubious light,
The nations has seduced from God’s sole path of right.
I’ll be the very slave of him, who, at each stage,
Will not suppose the goal ’tis of his pilgrimage.
How many stages are there must be left behind,
Before the traveller reach the home he bears in mind.
Although the iron may glow red, the colour’s not
Its own; ’tis but reflection of the fire that’s hot.
A window or a house with light may be suffused;
But still, the source of light is in the sun, diffused. 35
Each wall, each gate, may cry amain: “I shine! I shine!
I have no need of other’s light. ’Tis mine! ’Tis mine!”
But then the sun demurs: “O thing of little sense!
So soon as I shall set, thy darkness will be dense!”
The plants may think their verdure’s all their very own.
So fresh, so green; so pleasant every flower full-blown.
But then again the summer season makes comment:
“When I am past, your present charms will soon be spent.”

A beauty’s lovely body prides itself as fair.
Her spirit, having hid itself within its lair, 40
Remarks: “Thou dunghill! Wherefore all this silly pride?
Thou bloomest but a day or two, while I preside.
Thy affectation, vanity, ’s too vast for me.
But stay till I depart: then straightway thou shalt see.
Thy lovers then shall loathe thy charms, adored before.
To worms, and toads, and snakes they’ll fling thee, as cheap store.
Thy stench shall make him hold his nose in deep disgust,
Who lately in thy presence would have licked the dust.”

Reflections from the spirit are the tongue, the eye, the ear.
Accessions from the fire steam’s bubbles ’tis upbear. 45
E’en as the soul’s reflection on the body acts,
Reflection from th’ inspiring saints my soul impacts.
When my soul’s life shall quit my soul, alack-a-day!
My soul shall lifeless be, like mortal soulless clay.
’Tis therefore that I cast myself down in the dust,
That earth may witness bear for me before th’ All-Just.

In day of judgment, “when the earth shall quake with fear,”[355]
Earth shall itself bear witness to my prayerful tear.
Command shall issue: “Loud proclaim the acts thou’st seen.”
The earth, the rocks, a tongue shall find, to tell what’s been. 50
Philosophers deny this, in their pride of mind;
But tell them: “Dash your heads against a wall, ye blind!”
The speech of earth, of water, and of plastic clay,
Is audible unto the ears of saints that pray.
Philosophers who will deny God’s saving grace,
Are strangers to the powers of saints’ inspired race.
He holds that inclination, working on man’s brain,
Gives rise to heated phantasy’s legerdemain.
True, his own blasphemy and lack of firm belief
Have raised in him denial’s phantom, reason’s thief. 55
Philosophers deny the devil does exist;
While they themselves his sport are, in his cursed fist.
Hast never seen the devil? Look at thy own self!
Who’d paint his forehead blue, unless deceived by elf?[356]
Whoever hath a doubt or trouble in his mind,
In secret’s a philosopher, as you may find.
He wears the outward semblance of belief; but then,
Anon and ever his philosophy claims pen.
Beware, all ye believers! In you lurks this germ;
Within yourselves lies latent vile deception’s sperm. 60
The two and seventy sects are all within your hearts,[357]
And only wait a chance to play their fatal parts.

Whoever hath the bud of faith grown in his breast,
As aspen-leaf must tremble, lest it be supprest.
Thou laughest at the devil in thy foolish pride;
Thyself thou hast imagined sin’s stern deicide.
But when thy soul shall manifested be to all,
Sad sighs and moans shall rise from those who’re seen to fall.
Exhibitors of base coin in this world below
Smile now; the touchstone yet is hidden in form’s glow. 65

O Veiler of men’s sins! Lift not Thy veil from us![358]
In day of trial be our Helper, gracious!
Adulteration now contends with purest coin;
The gold awaits the day of trial to rejoin.
It slily thinks in its mute way, without ado:
“Await a little, false ones! Trial comes! Soho!
For was not Satan’s self, in ages long gone by,
Of light an angel, Prince of Powers, a galaxy,
Until he envied Adam in his froward heart?
And then he fell, an outcast from heaven’s high rampart. 70

The son of Beor, Balaam, in the world’s esteem,
Was equal unto Moses. So all men did deem.
To him alone was homage paid by high and low;
His prayers were reckoned medicine for every woe.
To Moses he opposed himself, in foolish pride.
The Scripture tells us how most miserably he died.[359]
Of Balaams, and of Satans, in this world of ours,
Some manifest, some secret, troops come at all hours.
God granteth them celebrity within their spheres,
That they may witness bear against their own compeers. 75
Then, both are elevated on a gallows high,
As warning unto others who for honours sigh.
They both were covetous of homage and applause;
And both received due punishment through God’s just laws.

Thou, man, perchance, the idol of some crowd mayst be.
For God’s sake, then, beware thou transgress not as he.
And setting up thyself against a better man,
Thou come to grief, and bring to wreck thy every plan.
The tales of ‘Ād[360] and Thamūd[361] have the moral clear,
That saints of God, and righteous men, are held more dear. 80
Those signs, and swift destruction overwhelming them,
Proclaim aloud the power that saints around does hem.

As brutes are slain that man may live a life of ease,
So men are slaughtered when they sin ’gainst God’s decrees.
For, what is wisdom? ’Tis th’ omniscience divine.
Man’s wisdom is but folly, set against that mine.
The brutes are timid, shun man’s presence everywhere;
Though man, in numbers, yields to them within this sphere.
Their blood may lawfully be shed for needs of man;
Because they lack th’ ennobling spark of reason’s scan. 85
The brute is held of low degree on this our earth;
As being weighed against great man’s superior worth.
What value will attach to thee, thou arrant fool,
If, like an ass, thou spite the lords of reason’s school?
The ass, that renders service meet unto his lord,
Men slay not. ’Tis the wild ass does them chase afford.
The ass reaps naught of recompense for merit due;
Yet, when he errs, fell punishment awaits him, true.
If man, then, go astray, much more he’s worthy blame;
Most justly shall chastisement visit him with shame. 90
The blood of misbelievers righteously is shed,
With sword and arrow, like wild ass on mountain fed.
Their wives and children fall a prey to victor’s hand;
In that they lack true wisdom, cursed of God they stand.
The reasonable creature fleeing reason’s Lord,
Renounces reason, brute becomes, calls for the sword.

Hārūt, Mārūt,[362] two angels famed throughout the earth,
Through pride and insolence lost paradise for dearth.
They trusted in the wondrous power they held of old;
As though a buffalo ’gainst lion should wax bold. 95
His horns are mighty weapons, fearful to the foe;
The lion tears him piecemeal; horns but work him woe.
Had he as many horns as hedgehog quills, all o’er,
They’d help him not; the lion still would him o’erpow’r.

The hurricane roots up the forest trees amain;
While pliant reeds from it no injury sustain.
The fury of the blast hurts not their supple ease.
Of strength, then, boast thee not, man. Seek wrath to appease.
The axe is nothing daunted, seeing boughs of trees;
But, one by one, hews through them all; their end foresees. 100
The axe sets not its trenchant edge to lop off leaves;
’Tis not the silky down of thistles that it cleaves.
A flame is not abashed, though many thorns collect;
Whole herds of sheep can never butcher’s knife deflect.
To inward idea’s power the outward sign must yield.
That power, ’tis, makes revolve the heavens’ vast starry field.
The sphere, the circling firmament, consider now.
What makes it turn? A force that rest will not allow.
The movements of our bodies have no other source;—
The soul it is originates all vital force. 105
The circulation of the air’s from an idea;
The millstone turns by water from the fields’ area.
The ebb and flow of tides, breath drawn, again expired,
Whence all? ’Tis life compels, diffused through all, respired.
The spirit ’tis decides what words our pen shall write;
Or peace, or war, or anything our minds indite.
To right, to left we go, e’en as the spirit wills;
A rose, a thorn,--the spirit says which place it fills.

Our God it was who sent this vital air in blasts,
Like breath of dragons, to destroy old ‘Ād’s[363] outcasts. 110
While to the faithful it gave peace, and health, and strength;
In gentle zephyrs softly breathing whole days’ length.
The Prophet hath assured us God’s the soul of all.
The Lord’s the ocean whence the rills of spirit fall.
The strata of the heavens and earth, with all therein,
Are merely straws afloat on waves where powers begin.
They dance about, are carried here and there by turns;
Their movement’s from the waves that power divine still churns.
Decrees this they shall be at rest? At once they’re flung
Aside upon the shore, there to decay like dung. 115
Wills it that they be tossed about on waves high-flown?
They’re but the leaves of autumn by the wild winds blown.
Now turn we from this subject, most engaging still,
To learn about those angels, victims of self-will.
The sins of all mankind were known to them as sure;
No wickedness escapes the glance of spirits pure.
In anger at such baseness they were moved to scorn;
Their own defect was hidden from their sight, heaven-born.

An ugly man once saw his face in looking-glass.
He turned away enraged with that reflecting mass. 120
So, when one self-conceited sees another’s fault,
A flame from hell is lighted in his bad heart’s vault.
’Tis pride inflames him;--holy zeal he dubs it straight;
Not conscious of the vanity that makes his freight.
A zeal for holiness by other tokens shines;
And lights a fire by which to ashes earth declines.

God said to them: “If you both shine with virtue’s ray,
No notice take of man’s backslidings from its way.
Give thanks and praises, rather, you’re not made like them.
Lusts of the flesh, concupiscence, soil not your stem. 125
Had I imposed upon you that great burden, sore;
The heavens would not have been your home for evermore.
The chastity that decks your spirit-nature now,
Reflection is of purity that lights My brow.
Know, this is but a quality you hold from Me.
So shall th’ accursed one not make you slaves to be!”
E’en as the Prophet’s scribe, with self-importance puffed,
Imagined holy wisdom’s light shone as he’d stuffed.
Himself he fancied equal of prophetic quire;
His raven croak as their sweet song he dared admire. 130
He who sets up to write the notes of every bird,
Knows not th’ inspiring springs within their bosom stirred.
Could man acquire the note of nightingale so sweet,
Would he have learnt as well its love the rose to meet?
Should he achieve a notion of that love’s intent;
’Twould be mere surmise, like deaf man’s from lips’ consent.
Such deaf man once was made aware by some kind friend,
That next door dwelt an invalid near to his end.
The poor man thought within himself: “I’m deaf as stone,
How can I hope to comprehend this neighbour’s tone? 135
More ’specially as sick men speak so very low.
Still, go I must; mere decency demands my bow.
When I advance, he’ll me address,--his lips will move.
From thence I’ll glean a notion, may not quite false prove.
I’ll ask him how he feels to-day, ’mid so much pain.
He’ll answer surely: ‘Thank you; better in the main.’
Reply I will: ‘Most happy! How’s the appetite?’
He’ll answer: ‘Pretty good, if chicken-broth invite.’
I’ll say: ‘Good! Good! And what are you allowed to drink?
Who is your doctor?’ He’ll respond, as one may think. 140
Then I’ll remark: ‘With so much talent at command,
You can’t do better. Soon I hope to see you stand.
I’ve had experience of his skill; I know his worth;
With him as guide, you’ll not go wrong.’ So forth.”

Thus having got his fancied answers all by heart,
He goes to see the sick man; deftly plays his part.
On asking: “How are you?” the patient says: “Near dead.”
The deaf man straight rejoins: “Of that I’m very glad.”
The sufferer felt insulted by this joy expressed.
The deaf one had surmised,--had failed in what he’d guessed. 145
He now inquired the diet: “Oh! It’s poison all!”
Complained the sick man. “Glad to hear it,” he let fall.
Still more the patient wondered. “Who attends you, pray?”
Asked Deafy; “whose advice is’t leads you on your way?”
“Death tracks my hours!” said he; “pray leave me now to rest.”
The other answered: “Better can’t be found; he’s best.”
The visitor retired, quite pleased with his rich art;
And offered thanks for having played so kind a part.
The sick man, on the contrary, was all on fire:
“Whence comes this malice? Who has roused his soul to ire?” 150
So, turning in his mind the matter o’er and o’er,
A message he determines that shall pay the score.
Just so, a man who’s eaten ill-digesting food,
Can have no rest till it’s ejected, well and good.
Long-suffering is thy better part, reject it not;
With patience, thou shalt find soft words best heal a plot.
But our sick man found no such solace for his mind;
He called the deaf one “Ass,” and “Fool,” and “Sot,” and “Blind.”
Said he: “I’ll serve him out; I’ll pay him what’s his due!
Till then, my spirit will his hateful visit rue! 155
A visit to the sick’s for consolation’s sake;
His visit I abhor, his insults I’ll not take.
He’s wished to gloat on foe laid prostrate at his feet;
Some joy to gather thence his secret hate to greet.”

How many pious men there are, to outward view,
Reward of joy in heaven, as object, who pursue.
At heart they’re sinners still, despite the show they make.
Alas! Hypocrisy for righteousness they take!
Just as our deaf man thought he’d done a friendly act;
And yet, withal, had vexed his neighbour, as a fact. 160
He soothed his soul by thinking: “Kindly part I’ve played!
I’ve acted as a neighbour! Sorrow I’ve allayed!”
Whereas, in truth, a fire he’d lighted for himself;
And his sick neighbour’s heart inspired with vengeful elf.

Beware the fires you kindle by such acts as this!
Beware offence to give, while proffering a kiss!
The Prophet said one was a hypocrite, he knew:
“Go, worship, friend; thy act’s no worship, as I trew!”
For fear lest we should trespass, even as we pray,
Our worship has the prayer: “Lord, guide us in Thy way!”[364] 165
“Permit not Thou, O God, that my devotion’s act
Be counted erring hypocrite’s unwelcome pact!”

The surmise of our deaf man wide was of the mark.
A ten years’ friendship ’twould have wrecked! Beware such spark!
Man’s judgment, friend, that’s based on sense’s treacherous sand,
Can never be compared with revelation’s wand.
Hast ear to hear? Hast mind to recognise the truth?
Know, then, thy moral ear is deaf to godly sooth!
The first who followed sense, and reason--as he thought--
Instead of God’s true light, the devil was, we’re taught. 170
He judged: “The fire more noble is than sordid earth;
From fire was I created; clay gave Adam birth.
The stock from whence it springs decides each kind of fruit;
From darkness Adam’s sprung; light at my birth did suit.”

The Lord replied: “’Tis not a question of descent.
Pre-eminence is here the prize of righteous bent.
’Tis not a heritage of worldly wealth to share.
Why talk of ancestry? Heart’s qualities declare.
The heritage we’ve now to give is prophecy;
The heirs thereto are they whose spirits hate a lie. 175
The son of Abū-Jahl believed, and saved his soul;[365]
A son of Noah rebelled; became perdition’s goal.[366]
The son of earth was made resplendent as the moon;
Thou, son of fire, begone, disgraced, cursed, none too soon!”

Investigations, reasonings, on days of cloud,
By night, in darkness, guide the doubting crowd;
But, when the sun shines,--when God’s temple’s clearly seen,
No doubt remains which way to turn one’s face, I ween.
The temple hidden, its direction quite unknown,—
Then use thy judgment. God this method’s kindly shown.[367] 180

Whene’er you hear a note of God’s truth-warbling bird,[368]
You straightway seize its literal sense, just as ’tis heard.
You then use suppositions of your darksome mind,
And form, through wrong conclusions, guesses worse than blind.
The saints use terms of technical significance,
Unknown to worldly reasoners’ crass ignorance.
The language of the bird you learn, as to its notes;
But clean destroy its sense; as sure as fancy dotes.

E’en as the sick man of our tale, saints’ hearts are grieved;
Though, like the deaf man, you suppose you’ve good achieved. 185
The scribe of writ inspired had all its text by heart;
Then thought himself inspired;--would play a prophet’s part.
The Prophet, warbler-like, smote him with powerful wing;
He forthwith sank to blind despair, through conscience’ sting.
So ’tis with you. Perversely, or with vain surmise,
You would interpret words descended from the skies.
Like Hārūt, and like Mārūt, well you’ve learnt the tune
They sang of old in pride: “We’re God’s elect,” jejune.
You pray for grace on all the sins of wicked men;
You curse your own foul egotism, greed’s hungry ken. 190
Beware lest God’s just jealousy break forth amain,
And smite you to the earth, ne’er more to rise again.

Those angels owned, in words: “To rule is Thine, O God.
Without Thy strong protection, safety’s soon downtrod.”
Such were their lip-words. But their hearts’ rebellious pride,
With foolish boasting, thought: “No harm can us betide.”
They never ceased to brood on vanities thus framed,
Till fire of arrogance burst forth from breasts inflamed;
Then proclamation made: “O elemental men!
How little have ye known the range of angel’s ken. 195
We’ll weave dense curtains o’er the sky’s revolving face;
Descending then to earth, we’ll there our temple place.
We’ll justice distribute, and worship we’ll commend,
Returning every night to heaven, whence we descend.
So shall we be admired by all who dwell on earth,
And fill the world with gladness, safety, peace, and mirth.”
Alas! Such fancy’s false! Earth cannot heaven be;
Their difference is radical, as all may see! 199

XIV.

The Chinese and Roman Artists.

Give ear to this advice from one who’s well informed:
“Lay down your head where’er by wine you’ve been transformed.”
Whene’er a drunken man reels forth from tavern door,
A laughingstock he’s made by urchin and by boor.
Now here, now there, he lurches, stumbling on his road;
Falls in the mire; is mocked and jeered, scorned as a toad.
The children of the neighbourhood his steps surround,
Unconscious what is wine’s hilarity profound.

So are all people children, round the saints of God;
5 None adults are, save they who’ve cast off passion’s clod.
’Twas said: “The world’s a toy, a plaything; and men all
Are infants.”[369] These are God’s words. True in sense they fall.
No child but loves his toys, his playthings, games, and sports;
By cultivation of the mind man sense imports.

Man’s love for worldly things is like child’s love for toys;
The child and man, in these, repeat each other’s joys.
The child, in play, performs the very selfsame part,
He’ll act when grown a hero, learnt debating art.
Men’s quarrels are the same as those fought out by boys;
They’re senseless, reasonless; they squabble for mere toys. 10
Their weapons are but wooden swords, as used in play;
Their objects are not worth a thought, by night or day.
They mount their hobby-horses, ride about on sticks;
Declaring ’tis Bucephalus, Eclipse, that kicks.
’Tis they who bear a burden, pack-horse-like, or ass;
Their vanity converts them into horsemen’s mass.

So let it be till that day when God’s riders shall,
On steeds of fire, transcend the seventh heaven’s rolling ball.
“The spirit and the angels mount unto their God.”[370]
The spheres shall shake, when under saintly footsteps trod. 15
Whereas the raff of mankind mount their own coat-tails;
Imagining they’re horsemen, prancing as ship sails.

The Lord hath said: “Imagining’s of no avail.”[371]
Imagination’s steed to scale heaven’s heights must fail.
Imagination’s best is but a choice of doubts;
Man ne’er disputes about the sun, whate’er the whim he flouts.
The time will come, he’ll see what wretched screw he rides;
That which he deemed a courser’s but his own shanks’ sides.
His senses, thoughts, and reasonings, he then will find,
Are but the infant’s hobby,--pa’s cane, more refined. 20

The wisdom of the saints is what bears them aloft.
The science of the worldly is their load;--how oft!
The wisdom of the heart sustains and elevates;
But knowledge sensuously acquired as burden rates.
’Tis God hath said: “An ass with volumes for his load.”[372]
So knowledge is a burden, when not of God’s code.
All science not received from word of God direct,
Hath no endurance; paint it is; our eyes detect.

Still, if man bear his burden well, he’s recompensed;
His burden is removed; ease to him is dispensed. 25
See, then, you bear not science’ load from fleshly lust;
Lest you should suffer inwardly fatigue,--disgust;
But mount the agile steed of sacred lore divine;
So shall the burden on your back at once decline.
Unless you drink His cup, how ’scape from fleshly lust?
O you, who, in His name, content are with the Just!
When from His name and attributes some inkling’s born,
This inkling points the road to union one fair morn.
Thou’st never known a guide, but some one must be led;
And when no road is travelled, gnome can’t dog man’s tread. 30
Thou’st never heard a name, but indicates a thing;
A flower thou’st never plucked from verbal _rosa_’s ding.
Hast thou pronounced a name? Straightway the thing ensue.
The moon seek in the sky;--not in lake-waters, blue.
But wouldst thou cast aside all names and words, as vain,
Thyself, then, purge of self. Abstraction thou shalt gain.
Wouldst be a sword? Cast off soft iron’s yield refined;
By discipline the mirror burnish of thy mind.
Discharge thyself of every particle of self;
So shalt thou see thyself pure, free from soil of pelf. 35
Within thy heart thou’lt see the wisdom of the saints,
Without a book, a teacher, or professor’s plaints.

The Prophet said: “That man is one of my true flock,
Whose heart and mind are hewn from my own calling’s rock.
His soul perceives me through the selfsame holy light
That unto me reveals his soul serenely bright.
Reports, traditions, chains of evidence, are lost;
When soul communes with soul, minds freely can accost.”
This riddle solve: “A Kurd I last night was, by birth;
And then, this morning, Arab am, by afterbirth.”[373] 40
If one, sincere, a Kurdish boor was overnight,
Sincerity an Arab made him by daylight.
Example seekest of science springing in the heart?
This contest heed of Chinaman and Roman’s art.[374]

The Chinese urged they had the greater painter’s skill.
The Romans pleaded they of art the throne did fill.
The sovereign heard them both; decreed a contest fair;
Results the palm should give the worthiest of the pair.

The parties twain a wordy war waged in debate;
The Romans’ show of science did predominate. 45
The Chinamen then asked to have a house assigned
For their especial use; and one for Rome designed,
Th’ allotted houses stood on either side one street;
In one the Chinese, one the Roman, artists meet.

The Chinese asked a hundred paints for their art’s use;
The sovereign his resources would not them refuse.
Each morning from the treasury rich colours’ store
Was served out to the Chinese till they asked no more.
The Romans argued: “Colour or design is vain;
We simply have to banish soil and filth amain.” 50
They closed their gate. To burnish then they set themselves;
As heaven’s vault, simplicity filled all their shelves.
Vast difference there is ’twixt colours and not one.
The colours are as clouds; simplicity’s the moon.
Whatever tinge you see embellishing the clouds,
You know comes from the sun, the moon, or stars in crowds.

At length the Chinamen their task had quite fulfilled.
With joy intense their hearts did beat, their bosoms thrilled.
The sovereign came, inspected all their rich designs,
And lost his heart with wonder at their talents’ signs. 55
He then passed to the Romans, that his eyes might see.
The curtains were withdrawn, to show whate’er might be.
The Chinese paintings all, their whole designs in full,
Reflected truly were on that high-burnished wall.
Whatever was depicted by the Chinese art
Was reproduced by mirrors, perfect every part.

Those Romans are our mystics;--know, my worthy friend;
No art, no learning; study, none;--but gain their end.
They polish well their bosoms, burnish bright their hearts,
Remove all stain of lust, of self, pride, hate’s deep smarts. 60
That mirror’s purity prefigures their hearts’ trust;
With endless images reflections it incrust.

The formless Form the thousand thousand hidden forms
Flashed in his breast on Moses’ heart, like mirrored storms.
That Form, ’tis true, the heaven of heavens cannot contain;
Nor all the space between the zenith and the main.
These numbered are, and limited within their bounds;
The mirror of the heart is boundless in its rounds.

Here, reason stands aghast, O erring child of sense;
The heart’s with God,--the heart is God,--boundless, immense! 65
From all eternity, the figures of all things,
Unnumbered, multitudinous, gleam in heart’s wings.
To all eternity each new-created form
In heart of saint reflected is, most multiform.
His polished heart is cleansed from being’s soiling stain;
And at each moment contemplates fresh beauty’s train.
The outward gilt, the shell, of science they despise;
The banner of real certitude floats where they rise.
They’ve thought abandoned; light and life they’ve truly found;
Their breasts and hearts are filled with love’s inspiring sound. 70

Death, that dread thing of which all mankind stand in fear,
Is laughed and mocked at by the saints, when it draws near.
No man has power to dominate their tranquil minds.
The shell may injured be; the pearl harm never finds.
The rhetor’s art, the jurist’s skill, they set at naught;
But poverty, abasement, to themselves they’ve taught.
The scenes of all eight paradises[375] are consumed
In that full blaze with which their holy heart’s illumed.
They’re more exalted than the heavens and what’s beyond;
Their place is in the court of love divine, all-fond. 75

XV.

Zeyd’s Inspiration.

The Prophet asked one morn of Zeyd, in tender tone,[376]
“How art thou, dear disciple, faithful to the bone?”
“I’m pious;--a believer,” Zeyd replied; and he
Inquired again: “What proof of faith resides in thee?”
He said: “Whole days I’ve burnt with parching fever’s thirst;
By night I’ve watched; with love’s sweet pangs my heart’s nigh burst.
Thus have I traversed days’ and nights’ enduring space,
As point of spear through shield makes way in war’s embrace.
For, in love’s view, the church of faith one body is;
Ten million years, one instant, are alike, when His. 5
The past eternity and future join in one;
Though reason cannot compass how the marvel’s done.”

The Prophet then: “Bring forth some souvenir from thence,
Shall satisfy all men of judgment and of sense.”
Said Zeyd: “As men behold the sky above their heads,
So I survey the heavens, and all their flowery meads.
Eight paradises,[377] seven deep hells,[378] are in my view,
As patent as the idol to its silly crew.
Apart, and one by one, I can discern all men,
As wheat and barley well are known to miller’s ken. 10
I see who’s heavenward bound, who takes the other road;
As men distinguish fish from snake in walks abroad.”

’Tis thus that saints, within the bounds of present life,
See who’ll be blessed, who cursed, when tried in judgment’s strife;
Before each soul contracts the sins will cause its shame;
While yet in mother’s womb,--while yet without a name.
The wretch is he conceived for wretchedness’ sad thirst.
Each soul is marked for future bliss or woe, at first.[379]
The body, as a mother, bears within a soul.
Death’s but the throes that launch the spirit to its goal. 15
Departed souls are all agog at each fresh birth,
To see what class the new-born enters in its mirth.
The blacks presume ’twill prove to be of their dark gang;
The pale-faced Romans hope they’ll profit by the pang.
But when the little stranger shows itself at last,
No room remains for doubt; the question’s judged and cast.
The new-born black is borne in triumph by its kind;
The rosy-cheeked fair bantling’s claimed by Roman mind.
Until its birth the child’s a riddle to all men.
Who knows an unborn infant’s rare sage in this glen. 20
Unless, mayhap, he see with light divine’s blest aid;
For this can penetrate through densest shell e’er made.
The life-conveying fluid’s colourless and clear;
But living men their various shades of colour bear.
The soul sustains complexions in our mortal frames,
Until our halves material find rest from their games.
But turn we now away to other subjects, high;
For fear events should leave us to regret and sigh.

“When settling-day ‘brings forth the colour of each face,’[380]
Mankind are separated sharply, race from race. 25
Within the womb nor Turk, nor Hindū, yet is seen;[381]
So soon as born, all, high and low, know what to ween.
As in the day of judgment all men all will know,
So now to me each man and woman forms a show.
Say: Shall I all declare; or shall I hold my peace?”
To this the Prophet in reply made motion: “Cease.”
“Ha! Prophet of the Lord! I’ll tell that secret, all!
To men I will declare the deeds of that dread hall!
Permit me to tear off the veil that hides it now;
My heart shall light the world as sun in midday glow. 30
I will eclipse that lamp, by giving out more light.
I will set plainly forth the thorn and fig-tree right.
Th’ events of judgment day I’ll lay before all men.
I’ll separate the gold from spurious coin, as then.
They of the left hand shall be maimed to public view,[382]
And all shall then the fruits of misbelief eschew.
I will expose the seven pits of wrath divine,[383]
By aid of light from truth’s great luminary’s shine.
I’ll rend away the rags that veil the wicked’s shame.
I’ll sound the trump, that all may hear the Prophet’s name. 35
Hell, heaven, the gulf between, I’ll set before men’s eyes,
That misbelievers may be warned of error’s dyes.
The fountain of ‘Kawthar’ shall throw its highest jet;[384]
Its rush shall greet their ears, its spray their faces wet.
They who will flock around it, burning with fierce thirst,
I’ll make apparent unto all, from last to first.
Their shoulders jostle ’gainst my shoulders in the crowd;
Their shrieks are sounding in my ears, as thunder loud.
While heaven’s citizens, rejoicing with delight,
Hug one another lovingly, to glad my sight. 40
They visit one another’s thrones, high rapture’s seats;
They kiss each other fondly; each all others greets.
My ears grow deaf through listening to those cries of grief,
And sorrow’s anguish from the lips where sin sat chief.
These are slight indications; much more could I say;
I pause; the Prophet’s wearied; cease from speech I may.”

Thus spake the Prophet’s servant, in delirious guise.
The Prophet shook his collar,--sign of deep surprise.
Then spake: “Rein in thy steed! He risks to run away!
Reflected Truth declares: ‘God blushes not.’[385] Heyday! 45
The mirror’s fallen out from its protecting case!
A mirror and a balance never truth debase!
A mirror and a balance never facts conceal,
Although some one be hurt by what they do reveal!
The mirror and the balance tests are of my rule;
Though for a thousand years thou serve it’s strict formule.
Hide not the truth from thought of deep respect for me.
Show forth the whole, in full. Deficiency mayn’t be.
What is’t that tells thee: ‘Play not, joke not with the truth?’[386]
The mirror, balance, God,--who smites falsehood with truth! 50
Sure, God hath raised me up for that one sole intent,
That through me truth be preached unto its full extent.
Were this not so, what value’s in me, valued friend?
Did I become instructor, only good to mend?
But shut thy mirror tight within its felten sack,
If Sion’s miracle’s repeated in thy track.”

Said Zeyd: “Can man e’er grasp beneath his feeble arm
The sun of truth, eternal luminary, warm?
’Twould burst his grasp asunder; all his wiles were vain,
Though madness he should add to reason in his brain!” 55

Replied the Prophet: “On thy eye thy finger place;
The world is straight deprived of all the sun’s bright face!
A finger-tip suffices to blot out the moon;
A symbol, this, of God’s great sin-effacing boon.
A point can cover up a whole world with its shade;
The sun can be eclipsed by what’s a mere monade.
Shut close thy lips. Consider now the mighty sea.
By God’s command the ocean man’s meek slave must be.[387]
Ev’n as the fountains Selsabīl and Zenjabīl[388]
Are given for use of angels, Michael, Isrāfīl.[389] 60
The rivers four of paradise are at our beck;
Not by our merit, but by God’s constraining check.
Where’er we will, they flow, obedient to our call;
Like magical effect, magician’s docile thrall.
So also are our eyes, those founts of sentient beams,
Subservient to our will, whichever way it streams.
As we direct, they look; see what’s like adder’s sting;
Or notice facts that to our minds their warnings bring.
If so we will, they scrutinise objectiveness;
As we desire, they lend themselves to study dress. 65
By our direction, universals are their bound;
If so we wish, they prisoners are in partials’ ground.
Each of the senses five acts thus but as a spout,
To bring unto the mind that which it cares about.
Whichever way the heart directs them forth to stroll,
They turn, and glean a harvest for its pleasure sole.
The hands and feet are servants to the heart’s request,
As Moses’ rod obedient was to his behest.
At heart’s desire, the feet begin the nimble dance,
Or seek advantage, or avoid some sore mischance. 70
The heart commands, the hands to calculations fall;
Should it prefer, they write a book or treatise small.
A hand there is, ’twould seem, within these hands of ours;
A hidden hand, that moves the body’s wondrous powers.
If that incites, this wages battle with the foe;
Should that induce, this aids a friend to stand tiptoe.
It pushes; straightway spoon’s plunged into soup;
It wills; a ponderous club forthwith attacks some group.
What is it that the heart says to them all by turns?
Most wonderful accord! Most marvellous alterns! 75
The ancient seal of Solomon the heart has found!
With that alone it guides the senses o’er their ground.
Externally, five senses serve its high command;
Internally, five faculties obey its hand.
Ten senses, thus, seven organs, wait upon its wants;
Besides a host of minor servants, confidants.
As Solomon thou sittest, O heart! Thou reignest supreme!
On fairy and on demon, set thy seal, thy scheme.
In this thy realm be upright; practise thou no fraud;
No demon, then, shall rob thee of thy seal, thy gaud.[390] 80
The world shall learn thy name, shall practise all thy rites;
Time and eternity remain thy perquisites.
But should a demon carry off thy seal, perchance,
Thy reign is o’er; thy fortune loses all advance.
Thenceforward vain regret shall canker in thy breast,
Until the day thou’rt called to thy account at last.
Unless thy heart renounce all selfish use of wit,
By mirror and by balance canst thou be held quit?”

Luqmān the sage, in presence of his noble lord,[391]
Among the slaves and servants was a mere byword. 85
The lord one day commanded; straight some slaves were sent
To gather fruit from orchard for his throat’s content.
With them did Luqmān go, as parasite to feast,
Brimful of wisdom, black as night, a negro beast.
Their labour o’er, the slaves lay down to rest awhile;
The fruit they tasted, tasted still, consumed the pile.
Returning home, on Luqmān the whole blame they laid;
His lord was angered mightily at what they said.
Luqmān inquired the cause of this estrangement keen.
The lord gave vent in loud abuse to his roused spleen. 90
Said Luqmān: “Lord, I swear by God’s most holy name,
Dishonest servant ne’er can hope for aught but blame.
Make proof of us. ’Tis easy. Lord thou art of all.
Command. We’ll drink our fill of water hot as gall.
Then make us run about within the meadow’s bound.
On horseback thou, on foot we, ’ll all trudge quickly round.
Thou soon shalt witness sights to show ‘the milk who spilt.’
Hearts’ secrets’ Great Revealer will disclose the guilt.”

Their lord so ordered. Scalding water soon was sought.
Each had to drink his fill, as hot as could be brought. 95
Then all were made to run as fast as they could tear,
All up and down the meadow, as their legs could bear.
Now lo! What happens? Sickness on them, each, soon falls;
To vomit they’re constrained, with starting of eyeballs.
The stolen fruit contained within their stomach’s sack,
The water’s stimulus compelled them to give back.
When Luqmān’s turn was come to cast up his accounts,
Clear water was the only issue from his founts.
Luqmān’s philosophy this trial could evolve;
God’s wisdom far abstruser riddles will resolve. 100
“The day when our hearts’ secrets shall be all revealed,”
Man’s secret foe in ambush shall not lie concealed.
Hell’s victims, then, shall taste of scalding water’s pang;
And all veils be torn off from sins they overhang.
Hell-fire’s decreed to be the lot of misbelief;
Since fire the ordeal is by which stones come to grief.

How often have we spoken to those hearts of stone,
In softest accents of advice! They would hear none!
To foulest ulcer, sharpest remedy’s applied.
The teeth of dogs alone are fit for ass’s hide. 105
“Filth to the filthy” is philosophy right sound.
“Birds of a feather flock together” goes its round.
What mates soever for thyself thou choose at last,
Their habits and their qualities acquire thou fast.
Wouldst glory have? To glory must thou raise pretence.
Wouldst it reject? Think well; and take thy road from thence.
Wouldst find a way out of this dismal dungeon vile?
Submit to God; bow down in worship with a smile.
Again we’ll turn. Again we’ll hear what Zeyd may say;
What road he’ll follow, on his steed, in reason’s way. 110
When reason sets itself t’ expose the faults of men,
It pulls aside the veils that hide them from our ken.
God sometimes wills that actions should concealed remain,
Drives reason’s drum away, forbids its noisy strain.

Loose not thy tongue alone; it bridle; hidden’s best.
Let each be happy in his own opinion’s zest.
God wills that they who might despair to win His grace,
Shall persevere, not slacken, in their worship’s pace
That they may seek a hopeful one, and him ensue;—
In his society may follow worship’s clue. 115
God wishes that His peace should light upon us all;
That His salvation should embrace good, bad, great, small.
That princes and that captives all should turn their face,
In hope and fear, up heavenward, looking for His grace.

That hope and fear are nourished by a curtain’s shade.
’Tis through uncertainty that hope and fear invade.
But tear away that veil; where then are hope and fear?
’Tis veiledness lends interest to landscapes drear.
Upon a river’s bank a youth, who chanced to spy
A fisherman at work, guessed: “Solomon, surely![392] 120
If he it be, why here, in secret and alone?
If not, whence come those features, fit to grace a throne?”
So he remained in doubt, ’twixt two opinions tossed,
Till Solomon recovered all the power he’d lost.

The foul usurping demon fled the royal state;
The king’s avenging sword pursued and sealed his fate.
The signet-ring of power once more on royal hand,
The demons and the fairies flocked to his command.
Mankind came crowding to his court, by levee swelled;
Among them came the youth who’d that opinion held. 125
He saw the signet-ring. This sufficed. Doubt was past.
No room was left for surmise. All was clear at last.

Opinion may be formed of what’s behind a veil.
Conjecture lends its aid where knowledge ’gins to fail.
Conjecture’s potent when the subject’s hid from view.
Let it be visible; no surmise can we brew.
Although the sky of light is not without its rain,
The earth of darkness, too, produces plants and grain.
I love that text: “They who believe what is not seen.”[393]
Thence have I closed my eyes, the body’s windows keen. 130
But should I cleave the firmament with my swift glance,
Could I exclaim: “Perceivest thou a flaw, perchance?”[394]
To scrutinise what’s hid behind the darkness’ screen,
Each man his method chooses; guesses what’s between.
A certain space of time confusion reigns supreme.
The robbers hang the magistrates by their own scheme,
Until at length a chief, blessed with a genius rare,
Springs up to serve his servants; all their troubles share.[395]

To render secret service is a thing beloved.
To hide a service rendered adds to what’s approved. 135
What’s he, commends his king with lies before his face,
And in his absence needs lament his lack of grace?

The warden of a castle on the marches laid,
Far from his sovereign, distant from much-needed aid,
Defends his post with valour from beleaguering foe,
Disdains to be bought over, scorns the tempter’s moe.
His station’s on a frontier, no eye sees him act;
To duty true, he honestly fulfils his pact.
Then in his monarch’s presence honours due he gains,
Above the brave men fighting in the royal trains. 140
More merit’s in a little secret service given,
Than in much more performed when by an eye it’s driven.

Man’s faith and piety on earth are prized of God.
But after death professed, less value have than clod.
The absent and the hidden being thus the best,
The silent mouth and sealed lip surpass the rest.
Then boast not, brother; whatsoever thou hast done,
God knows thy merits; will requite them every one.
The sun requires no other witness but his face.
Man has a greater. God’s his witness. Vast the grace! 145
If I proclaim it not, how many are prepared
To witness to each fact! God, angels, men, full wared.
“God will bear witness, angels, and all they who’ve known,”[396]
That: “Lord there is no other, save th’ Eternal One.”[397]

When God himself our witness is, who’ll angels need,
That they should share, participate, in His sole deed?
Unless it be that, as the fervent, blazing sun,
Pours forth such beams no mortal eye can look upon.
Just like the bat, man cannot bear full light of day;
So, in despair, he seeks the darkness, shuns noon’s ray. 150

Thus, like us, know, the angels are a loving crew,
Who bask in beams of heaven’s Sun, beyond our view.
They say: “Our light we have received from a sun;
As substitutes we shine upon the weak, outrun.”
As new-born moon, or five days old, or at the full,
Each angel has his rank, degree, place, wonderful.
His glorious wings in pairs, two, three, and even, four;[398]
So that his beams are doubled, trebled, fourfold, more.
Just like the grades that mark the various human minds,
Do differences vast exist in angels’ kinds. 155
Thus every man’s companion-angel’s like himself,
Or good, or bad, or high, or low, as china, delf.
When weak-eyed mortals cannot look upon the sun,
They have to seek for taper’s aid, ere they may run.
The Prophet hath declared: “Stars, my disciples are;
They’re lights to them who seek; though devils they may scare.”
If every man had strength, and faculty of sight,
To look straight at the sun, trust him alone for light,
What need were for the stars, or lamps, of feeble ray,
To help them on their path, in quest of source of day? 160

The moon declares to man, as do the clouds, the shade,
“I, too, ’d been human, but for revelation made.[399]
Like you, I had been darksome, as within, without.
But revelation gave me sunlight, shade to rout.
Compared with the sun, I’m darksome as a cloud;
Compared with men’s dark bosoms, I may well be proud.
I shed a feeble light, that men may bear my beams,
He cannot look upon the sun’s too ardent streams.
I’ve mixed with honey vinegar; made oxymel;
A remedy to bring to man’s diseases fell.” 165

Art rid of thy disease, my friend? Then set aside
The vinegar. Rejoice thy soul with honey’s tide.
When freed from lusts, the heart of man in full health shines.
God said: “The Merciful on heaven’s high throne reclines.”[400]
God rules the heart direct, free from all means to aid,
So soon as it is purged from dross that low it laid.
We’ll now go back to Zeyd, and proffer him advice;
We’ll warn him not to risk dishonour, paltering’s price.

Thou shalt not Zeyd now find; he’s surely run away,
He’s clean absconded by the door; had naught to say. 170
Had’st thou been Zeyd, like him thou’dst lost been in a maze;
As stars die out when sunlight sets the skies ablaze.
E’en as no track points out where was galaxy’s place;
Thou’lt find no signs of Zeyd, no footstep, sign, or trace.

Our senses falter, all our reasoning is lost,
In splendour of the wisdom of th’ All-Ruling Ghost.
Men’s senses, and their reasons, must be shut within,
“In waves when all before us to appear begin.”[401]
When night returns, the sky again a court appears,
The hidden stars shine forth, and mark the rolling years. 175
The senseless dead unto, will God their wits restore;
In circles, like attendants, Him they’ll stand before.
They’ll foot the dance, they’ll spread their hands, they’ll
shout His praise;
They’ll sing their song: “Thou, Lord, us from the dead didst raise.”
Their mortal skins and bones they’ll shake off in the earth;
On angel-wings they’ll ride, and whirlwind-dust call forth.
Their course they’ll take from nullity to entity,
In judgment day, ungrateful, grateful laity.

Why turn away thy head, pretend not to have seen?
Hast thou not, first, in nullity, a truant been? 180
In nullity, so firm thou settedst down thy foot,
And ask’dst: “Who shall remove me when I’ve taken root?”
Dost thou not see the wondrous works of God’s high will?
How He it is who “leads thee by thy forelock” still?[402]
He draws thee into states, conditions, turns of weal,
That never entered in thy mind to seek with zeal.

Nonentity obedient is to His command.
Of demon, and of Solomon, He rules the hand.
A demon can contrive “the trays of fishpond size.”[403]
He dares not make refusal these to organise. 185
Contemplate now thyself in agony of fear;
And know, nonentity, too, quakes His wrath to hear.
Thou stretchest forth thy hand to seize preferment’s place;
From fear of thee, some soul itself must quick efface.
All else but love of God, the Truest and the Best,
Though sweet to thought, is but a snare to break thy rest.
What’s all thy effort worth? Thou hast to die at last;
Put out thy hand and grasp the cup of life right fast.

Men fix their eyes on what is dust and ashes, death;
Refuse belief in what is life and healthful breath. 190
Exert thyself. Reduce thy doubts from ten to nine.
Employ the night. Thou sleepest. Night’s not so supine.
Employ the night to seek the everlasting day,
Increase in knowledge. Wisdom ’tis shall light thy way.
Though night be dark, and darkness be of woe the doom,
Much good is in it. Fount of Life’s in land of gloom.[404]

How can a mortal hope to raise his head from sleep,
When seeds of slothfulness are all he cares to reap?
The dead man’s sleep’s the body-snatcher’s open door.
Householders slumber, robbers rifle every floor. 195
Thou knowest not who are thy foes around thee placed.
The imps of hell are enemies to man high graced.

The fire’s the foe of water and of water’s brood;
As water’s foe to fire, and drowns it in a flood.
To water, and its cousins all, the fire swears death;
To fire shall water never quarter give, or breath.
’Tis water puts the fire out; and the reason’s plain;
The fire has mission to destroy the water’s strain.

And then, the fire’s the heat of passion’s baneful lusts.
And lust, the root of frailty, sin, misdeeds, mistrusts. 200
Material, outer fire, ’s by water soon put out;
The fire of lust may carry man to hell, no doubt.
No water can avail to quench the flames of lust;
For lust is hell-born. Torments end not; last they must.
Religion’s light, alone, can quench lust’s fiercest flame,—
The light that can put out the Syntheist’s wicked game.[405]
What can extinguish fire of sin, save light of God?
My master, see that Abr’am’s light be ne’er downtrod;
That from the fire of lust, by inner Nimrod fanned,[406]
Thy body may escape; not be, as firewood, banned. 205
The lust of man’s desires cannot be driven forth;
But may resisted be, reduced to what it’s worth.
So long as thou shalt fuel pile upon that flame,
Canst thou expect the fire will die away and tame?
So soon as fuel is withheld, a fire goes out;
Through piety is lust brought down, and put to rout.
Shall that sweet face e’er blacken through sin’s dismal smoke,
That’s brightened by such sheen as virtue must invoke?

A conflagration raged in days of great ‘Umer,
Stones were devoured therein, as firewood in the air.[407] 210
The buildings it consumed, and left whole households waste;
The nests and nestlings were destroyed;--last trump’s foretaste.
One half Medīna fell a prey to ruthless flame,
Whereat th’ aqueous element might well feel shame.
Whole cisterns were exhausted in the combat wild;
And vinegar was added. Hope was thus beguiled.
The fire grew fiercer under stimulus of strife;
Extension gave it wings, success infused new life.

The people now came flocking to the Caliph’s gate,
In marvel, that, through water, fire would not abate. 215
He told them that the fire burnt by divine command;
That all those flames arose from their too frugal hand:
“What use are water, vinegar? Distribute bread;
Eschew cold avarice, if by me you’ll be led.”
They answered: “Wide our doors stand open every day,
We’ve ever lavish been; almsgiving is our play.”