[Footnote 1: _A Literary History of Persia_, vol. i.]
[Footnote 2: "Among the Adepts and Mystics of Hindostam." _The Occult Review_, December, 1905.]
[Footnote 3: For further extracts from Súfí writers see _A Historical Enquiry concerning the Origin and Development of Súfíism_, By R. A. Nicholson. _The Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society_, March, 1906.]
[Footnote 4: See _History of Ottoman Poetry_, by E. G. W. Gibb, vol. i.]
[Footnote 5: Translation by Professor E. G. Browne.]
[Footnote 6: Compare the Alexandrian doctrine of Emanations. Also Jámí's _Lawā'ih_. Translated by E. H. Whinfield and Mūrzā Muhammad Kazvīnī.]
[Footnote 7: _Life of Sir Richard Burton_. 2 vols. By Thomas Wright.]
THE LIFE AND WORK OF JALÁLU'D-DÍN RÚMÍ I. LIFE Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí was born at Balkh on September 30th, 1207, A.D., or according to Mohammedan reckoning, in 604 A.H. His father, Bahaū-'d-Dín, was a man of much learning, but gave offence to the reigning king by an attack on that monarch's innovations. Another account disputes this in the place of jealousy on the part of the king. Whatever the cause, however, Bahaū-'d-Dín left Balkh, together with his family, and settled at Nishapur. It was here that the celebrated Súfí, Farídu'd-Dín 'Attár, presented young Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí with his _Asrarnama_,[1] and informed his father that the child would some day become famous throughout the world. After the destruction of Balkh the family went to Qonia,[2] an old Roman province, where the poet acquired his name Rúmí, or "the Roman." Young Jalál must have been a child prodigy if we are to believe the many wonderful stories of his early days. At six years of age he is said to have seen visions, taught his playmates philosophy, and performed many marvellous feats, such as flying into the celestial regions. On the death of his father Jalál took the professorial chair. He also founded an order of Dervishes known as Maulavis, where he authorised music and religious dance. When asked why he introduced singing and dance at a funeral, such practice being contrary to custom, Jalál replied: "When the human spirit, after years of imprisonment in the cage and dungeon of the body, is at length set free, and wings its flight to the Source whence it came, is not this an occasion for rejoicings, thanks, and dancing?" Jalál was an indomitable optimist. In his sayings, and still more in his poetry, we find an almost untrammelled ecstasy. The religious dances, known as Rizā Kulī, may in some way account for Jalál's occasional lack of care displayed in his poetry, and also for the outbursts not far removed from insanity. We are informed by Daulat Sháh that "There was a pillar in the Maulavi's house, and when he was drowned in the ocean of Love he used to take hold of that pillar and set himself turning round it." It was while turning round the pillar that he not infrequently dictated much of his poetry. As Mr. Arthur Symons has sung: I turn until my sense, Dizzied with waves of air, Spins to a point intense, And spires and centres there.[3] We can well imagine Jalál writing the following under the conditions just mentioned: "Come! Come! Thou art the Soul, the Soul so dear, revolving! Come! Come! Thou art the Cedar, the Cedar's Spear, revolving! Oh, come! The well of Light up-bubbling springs; And Morning Stars exult, in Gladness sheer, revolving!"[4] In 1226 A.D. Jalál was married at Lerenda to Gevher (Pearl). She bore two sons and died early in life. Jalál married again and his second wife survived him.
II. SHAMSI TABRIZ A word must now be said about Shamsi Tabrīz, an intimate friend of Jalál. We have sufficient evidence to prove that Shamsi Tabrīz, Jalál's _nom de guerre_, was an actual person, and not a mythical creation on the part of the poet. This mysterious being, who flitted across Jalál's life so tragically, seems to have had great personal influence over the poet, who went with him into solitary places and there discussed profound mysteries. The scholars of Jalál looked upon the whole affair as an unworthy infatuation on the part of their Master, and on the part of Shams a shameful seduction. Their protests brought about the flight of Shams, who fled to Tabrīz. But it was only a momentary separation. Jalál followed this strange figure and brought him back again. Most of his lighter poetry was composed during this separation. Another disturbance, however, caused the departure of Shams to Damascus. We then have no clear record of him. Various legends exist in regard to the death of this mysterious person. It may be safely stated, however, that Shams met with a violent death, the exact nature of which it is impossible to say definitely.
This strange union is by no means unique in the history of the world's literature. The union, however, in this particular case, is extremely difficult to rightly fathom. We may reasonably infer that Jalál's intense poetic temperament became fascinated by the dogmatic and powerful Shams. The very treatment of this friendship, both in the Lyrical Poems, and in the _Masnavi_, is Súfí The two following quotations, from many that might be cited, will prove sufficient to illustrate this point: The face of Shamsi Dín, Tabrīz's glory, is the sun In whose track the cloud-like hearts are moving.
O Shamsi Tabrīz, beauty and glory of the horizons, What king but is a beggar of thee with heart and soul?
III. THE STORIES OF AL-AFLĀKÍ AND THE DEATH OF JALÁLU'D-DÍN RÚMÍ.[5] The historian al-Aflākí, in his collection of anecdotes called Menaqibu 'L 'Arifin,[6] gives a number of stories relating to the miracles and wise sayings of Jalál. Many of these miraculous performances were followed by the conversion of those who witnessed them. A marvel or a wise saying of Jalál was generally accompanied by music and dance, which reminds us of the jubilations of the Indian gods after Rama's victories over his enemies. These stories, interesting enough in themselves, can scarcely be credited to such a learned man as Jalál undoubtedly was. According to tradition he spoke to frogs and fishes, raised the dead to life, and at the same time very ignominiously lost his temper when a disciple who said, after having received Jalál's instructions: "God willing." After all, the significance of Jalál lies not in these rather lamentable fairy tales, but in the fruit of his work. Jalál, like the Lord Buddha, suffered considerably from the addition of fabulous tales and fancies of no real moment to his teachings.
Al-Aflākí tells a pretty story concerning the tenderness of Jalál for little children. As the poet passed by some children, they left their play and ran to him and bowed. Jalál bowed in response. One little boy, some distance off, seeing the honour bestowed upon his playmates, cried to Jalál: "Wait for me until I come!" And Jalál waited and bowed to the little child. This story is worth far more than juggler's tricks.
Jalálu'd-Dín Rúmí died at Qonia in 1273 A.D., praising God and leaving to the world a vast store of spiritual knowledge and many wise instructions to his son, Bahaū-'d-Dín Valad. It is very gratifying to note that at the death of Jalál his mourners were of all creeds. A Christian was asked why he wept over a Muslim grave, and he replied: "We esteem him as the Moses, the David, the Jesus of our time; and we are his disciples, his adherents." This was indeed a splendid and worthy tribute to the memory of so great a man.
I hope I have already demonstrated that the very nature of Súfí poetry is entirely lacking in creed or dogma, and certainly the great singer of the _Masnavi_ has left in his songs a wealth of the wonder of Divine Love.
IV. THE NATURE AND SIGNIFICANCE OF JALÁLU'D-DÍN RÚMÍ'S POETRY _The Lyrical_.--We have already noted the acceptance of the _Asrarnama_. Among the other literary influences, according to Mr. Nicholson, we may note the poems of Sana'ī, Sa'di, and Nīzamī. The fact that Jalál's poetry sometimes faintly resembles Omar Khayyám's is too slight to be of any value. Mr. Nicholson very ably sums up the nature of the _Masnavi_ and _Divan_ respectively: "The one is a majestic river, calm and deep, meandering through many a rich and varied landscape to the immeasurable ocean; the other a foaming torrent that leaps and plunges in the ethereal solitude of the hills." The poetry of Jalál is not of equal merit. His work seldom if ever has the technical polish of Jámí. There is too much of it; too much produced in the belief that all his poetry was inspired. He is fond of harping on certain words, and as far as the translations are concerned he has little sense of humour.[7] There was certainly room for a touch of humour in the poet's description of Iblis receiving from God a gift of beautiful women whereby to tempt mankind; but Jalál entirely ignores it. These weaknesses are almost lost in the strength and purity and lyrical grandeur of many of Jalál's poems. He carries us along on a torrent of heavenly music. The rhythmic, swing of his wonderful dance is soul-stirring. We seem to move exultantly, ecstatically, to the sound of the poet's singing, far behind the silver stars into the Presence of the Beloved. With what reverence, with what a glow of simile and subtle suggestion he describes the Beauty of the Beloved! With what exquisite passion he foretells the Eternal Union! Then there is a lull in this fierce spiritual song, and Jalál sings, ever so gently and with an infinite tenderness, about human tears being turned into "rain-clouds." He sings about the meeting of two friends in Paradise, with the oft-repeated refrain, "Thou and I." There seems in this poem an indescribable and almost pathetic play on the idea of human friendship and the Divine Friendship, a yearning tenderness for that human shadow, passing shadow though it be. Jalál appears to have the power of producing almost orchestral effects in his music of the Spheres. There is that terrific touch of Wagner about his poetry, and in those suggestive Wagner-pauses there is a tenderness of expression more touching, more truly great than the loud triumphant notes. Jalál has truly said: "Our journey is to the Rose-Garden of Union." He sang about, the Divine Rose-Garden; but he did not forget to sing about the roses that fade and the human hearts that ache. We seem to see Jalál ever bowing to the little child in all his wonderful singing.
_The Masnavi_.--Jalál is said to have been forty-three years engaged in writing the _Masnavi_. Often whole nights were spent in its composition, Jalál reciting and his friend Hasam copying it down and sometimes singing portions of the verse in his beautiful voice. At the completion of the first book Hasam's wife died, and two years elapsed before the work was continued. The _Masnavi_ is full of profound mysteries, and is a most important book in the study of Súfíism-- mysteries which must, for the most part, be left to the discernment of the reader. Jalál himself has said that great Love is silent. It is in Silence that we shall come to understand the supreme Mystery of Love that has no comparison. The key-note to the _Masnavi_ may be found in the Prologue to the first book. The poet here sings of the soul's longing to be united with the Beloved. The fact that he, and all other Súfí poets, use as an analogy the love between man and woman renders the spiritual meaning extremely vague. We have, however, already considered this point in the introduction, and it needs no further explanation. The _Masnavi_ has all the pantheistic beauty of the Psalms, the music of the hills, the colour and scent of roses, the swaying of forests; but it has considerably more than that. These things of scent and form and colour are the Mirror of the Beloved; these earthy loves the journey down the valley into the Rose-Garden where the roses never fade, and where Love is.
[Footnote 1: Book of Mysteries.]
[Footnote 2: Iconium.]
[Footnote 3: _The Fool of the World_.]
[Footnote 4: _The Festival of Spring_. Translated by the Rev. Prof. William Hastie.]
[Footnote 5: See _The Masnavi_. Translated by Sir James W. Rodhouse.]
[Footnote 6: "The Acts of the Adepts."]
[Footnote 7: Prof. C. E. Wilson informs me that Jalál certainly had a very fair sense of humour, and that in the original there is often a clever and witty play on words.]
SELECTIONS FROM THE "DĪVĀNI SHAMSI TABRĪZ" "I AM SILENT" I am silent. Speak Thou, O Soul of Soul of Soul, From desire of whose Face every atom grew articulate.
A CRY TO THE BELOVED Yestereve I delivered to a star tidings for thee: "Present," I said, "my service to that moon-like form." I bowed, I said: "Bear that service to the sun Who maketh hard rocks gold by his burning." I bared my breast, I showed it the wounds: "Give news of me," I said, "to the Beloved whose drink is blood." I rocked to and fro that the child, my heart, might become still; A child sleeps when one sways the cradle. Give my heart-babe milk, relieve us from its weeping, O Thou that helpest every moment a hundred helpless like me. The heart's home, first to last, is Thy City of Union: How long wilt Thou keep in exile this heart forlorn?
REMEMBER GOD AND FORGET SELF O spirit, make thy head in search and seeking like the water of a stream, And O reason, to gain Eternal Life tread ever-lastingly the way of Death. Keep God in remembrance till self is forgotten, That thou may be lost in the Called, without distraction of caller and call.
"THE PRINCE OF THE FAIR" A garden--may its rose be in flower to Resurrection! An idol--may the two worlds be scattered o'er his beauty! The Prince of the Fair goes proudly forth to the chase at morning; May our hearts fall a prey to the arrow of His glance From His eye what messages are passing continually to mine! May my eyes be gladdened and filled with intoxication by His Message!
"MY BODY IS LIKE THE MOON" My body is like the moon which is melting for Love, My heart like Zuhra's[1] lute--may its strings be broken! Look not on the moon's waning nor on Zuhra's broken state: Behold the sweetness of his affection--may it wax a thousandfold!
MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY What a Bride is in the soul! By the reflection of Her face May the world be freshened and coloured like the hands of the newly married![2] Look not on the fleshy cheek which corrupts and decays, Look on the spiritual cheek--may it be sweet and agreeable! The dark body resembles a raven, and the body's world winter; O in spite of these two unpleasants may there be Eternal Spring!
THE BELOVED THE DIVINE CONSOLER Thou who art my soul's comfort in the season of sorrow, Thou who art my spirit's treasure in the bitterness of dearth! That which the imagination has not conceived, that which the understanding has not seen, Visited my soul from Thee; hence in worship I turn toward Thee. By Thy grace I keep fixed on Eternity my amorous gaze, Except, O King, the pomps that perish lead me astray. The favour of that one, who brings glad tidings of Thee, Even without Thy summons, is sweeter in mine ear than songs. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * If a never-ceasing bounty should offer kingdoms, If a hidden treasure should set before me all that is, I would bend down my soul, I would lay my face in the dust, I would say, "Of all these the love of such an One for me!"
"THOU ART THE SOUL OF THE WORLD" Eternal Life, methinks, is the time of Union, Because Time, for me, hath no place There. Life is the vessels, Union the clear draught in them; Without Thee what does the pain of the vessels avail me? I had twenty thousand desires ere this; In passion for Him not even (care of) my safety remained. By the help of His grace I am become safe, because The unseen King saith to me, "Thou art the soul of the world."
"THE VOICE OF LOVE" "THE VOICE OF LOVE" Every moment the voice of Love is coming from left and right. We are bound for heaven: who has a mind to sight-seeing? We have been in heaven, we have been friends of the angels; Thither, Sire, let us return, for that is our country.
THE SEA OF LOVE Mankind, like waterfowl, are sprung from the sea--the Sea of Soul; Risen from that Sea, why should the bird make here his home? Nay, we are pearls in that Sea, therein we all abide; Else, why does wave follow wave from the Sea of Soul? 'Tis the time of Union's attainment, 'tis the time of Eternity's beauty, 'Tis the time of favour and largesse, 'tis the Ocean of perfect purity. The billow of largesse hath appeared, the thunder of the Sea hath arrived, The morn of blessedness hath dawned. Morn? No, 'tis the Light of God.
THE BEAUTY OF THE BELOVED O Beloved, spiritual beauty is very fair and glorious, But Thine own beauty and loveliness is another thing. O Thou who art years describing Spirit, Show one quality that is equal to His Essence. Light waxes in the eye at the imagination of Him, But in presence of His Union it is dimmed. I stand open-mouthed in veneration of that beauty: "God is most great" is on my heart's lips every moment. The heart hath gotten an eye constant in desire of Thee. O how that desire feeds heart and eye! 'Tis slave-caressing Thy Love has practised; Else, where is the heart worthy of that Love? Every heart that has slept one night in Thy air Is like radiant day.
THE WATER OF ETERNAL LIFE Every form you see has its archetype in the placeless world; If the form perished, no matter, since its Original is everlasting. Every fair shape you have seen, every deep saying you have heard, Be not cast down that it perished; for that is not so. Whereas the Spring-head is undying, its branch gives water continually; Since neither can cease, why are you lamenting? Conceive the Soul as a fountain, and these created things as rivers: While the Fountain flows, the rivers run from it. Put grief out of your head and keep quaffing this River-water; Do not think of the Water failing, for this Water is without end.
EARTHLY LOVE AND THE LOVE DIVINE 'Twere better that the spirit which wears not true Love as a garment Had not been: its being is but shame. * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * Without the dealing of Love there is no entrance to the Beloved. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 'Tis Love and the Lover that live to all Eternity; Set not thy heart on aught else; 'tis only borrowed, How long wilt thou embrace a dead beloved? Embrace the Soul which is embraced by nothing. What was born of spring dies in autumn, Love's rose-plot hath no aiding from the early spring.
"THE HOUSE OF LOVE" This is the Lord of Heaven, who resembles Venus and the moon, This is the House of Love, which has no bound or end. Like a mirror, the soul has received Thy image in its heart; The tip of Thy curl has sunk into my heart like a comb. Forasmuch as the women cut their hands in Joseph's presence, Come to me, O soul, for the Beloved is in the midst.
LOVE'S DESIRE Show Thy face, for I desire the orchard and the rose-garden; Ope Thy lips, for I desire sugar in plenty. O sun, show forth Thy face from the veil of cloud, For I desire that radiant glowing countenance.
THE FINDING OF THE BELOVED I was on that day when the Names were not, Nor any sign of existence endowed with name, By me Names and Named were brought to view On the day when there was not "I" and "We," For a sign, the tip of the Beloved's curl became a centre of revelation; As yet the tip of that curl was not. Cross and Christians, from end to end, I surveyed; He was not on the Cross. I went to the idol-temple, to the ancient pagoda; No trace was visible there. I went to the mountains of Herāt and Candahār; I looked; He was not in that hill-and-dale. * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * I gazed into my own heart; There I saw Him; He was nowhere else.
GOD ONLY "None but God has contemplated the beauty of God." This eye and that lamp are two lights, each individual, When they came together, no one distinguished them.
THE MOON-SOUL AND THE SEA At morning-tide a moon appeared in the sky, And descended from the sky and gazed on me. Like a falcon which snatches a bird at the time of hunting, That moon snatched me up and coursed over the sky. When I looked at myself, I saw myself no more, Because in that moon my body became by grace even as soul. When I travelled in soul, I saw naught save the moon, Till the secret of the Eternal Theophany was revealed. The nine spheres of heaven were all merged in that moon, The vessel of my being was completely hidden in the sea. The sea broke into waves, and again Wisdom rose And cast abroad a voice; so it happened and thus it befell. Foamed the sea, and at every foam-fleck Something took figure and something was bodied forth. Every foam-fleck of body, which received a sign from that sea, Melted straightway and turned to spirit in this Ocean.
LIFE IN DEATH LIFE IN DEATH When my bier moveth on the day of Death, Think not my heart is in this world. Do not weep in the devil's snare: that is woe. When thou seest my hearse, cry not "Parted, parted!" Union and meeting are mine in that hour. If thou commit me to the grave, say not "Farewell, farewell!" For the grave is a curtain hiding the communion of Paradise, After beholding descent, consider resurrection; Why should setting be injurious to the sun and moon? To thee it seems a setting, but 'tis a rising; Tho' the vault seems a prison, 'tis the release of the soul. * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * Shut thy mouth on this side and open it beyond, For in placeless air will be thy triumphal song.
THE WHOLE AND THE PART Beware! do not keep, in a circle of reprobates, Thine eye shut like a bud, thy mouth open like the rose. The world resembles a mirror: thy Love is the perfect image: O people, who has ever seen a part greater than the whole?
THE DIVINE FRIEND Look on me, for thou art my companion in the grave On the night when thou shalt pass from shop and dwelling. Thou shalt hear my hail in the hollow of the tomb: it shall become known to thee That thou wast never concealed from mine eye. I am as reason and intellect within thy bosom At the time of joy and gladness, at the time of sorrow and distress. * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * In the hour when the intellectual lamp is lighted, What a pears goes up from the dead men in the tombs!
ASPIRATION Haste, haste! for we too, O soul, are coming From this world of severance to that world of Union.
O how long shall we, like children, in the earthly sphere Fill our lap with dust and stones and sherds? Let us give up the earth and fly heavenwards, Let us flee from childhood to the banquet of men. Behold how the earthly frame has entrapped thee! Rend the sack and raise thy head clear.
"I WELL CHERISH THE SOUL" "I am a painter, a maker of pictures; every moment I shape a beauteous form, And then in Thy presence I melt them all away. I call up a hundred phantoms and indue them with a spirit; When I behold Thy phantom, I cast them in the fire." * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * Lo! I will cherish the soul, because it has a perfume of Thee. Every drop of blood which proceeds from me is saying to Thy dust: "I am one colour with Thy love, I am a partner of Thy affection." In the house of water and clay this heart is desolate without Thee; O Beloved, enter the house, or I will leave it.
"THIS IS LOVE" This is Love: to fly heavenward, To rend, every instant, a hundred veils. The first moment, to renounce Life: The last step, to feel without feet. To regard this world as invisible, Not to see what appears to one's self. "O heart," I said, "may it bless thee To have entered the circle of lovers, To look beyond the range of the eye, To penetrate the windings of the bosom! Whence did this breath come to thee, O my soul, Whence this throbbing, O my heart?"
THE JOURNEY TO THE BELOVED O lovers, O lovers, it is time to abandon the world: The drum of departure reaches my spiritual ear from heaven. Behold, the driver has risen and made ready his files of camels, And begged us to acquit him of blame: why, O travellers, are you asleep? These sounds before and behind are the din of departure and of the camel-bells; With each moment a soul and spirit is setting off into the Void. From these inverted candles, from these blue awnings There has come forth a wondrous people, that the mysteries may be revealed. A heavy slumber fell upon thee from the circling spheres: Alas, for this life so light, beware of this slumber so heavy! O soul, seek the Beloved, O friend, seek the Friend, O watchman, be wakeful: it behoves not a watchman to sleep.
THE DAY OF RESURRECTION On every side is clamour and tumult, in every street are candles and torches, For to-night the teeming world gives birth to the World Everlasting. Thou wert dust and art spirit, thou wert ignorant and art wise. He who has led thee thus far will lead thee further also. How pleasant are the pains He makes thee suffer while He gently draws thee to Himself!
THE RETURN OF THE BELOVED Always at night returns the Beloved: do not eat opium to-night; Close your mouth against food, that you may taste the sweetness of the mouth. Lo, the cup-bearer is no tyrant, and in his assembly there is a circle: Come into the circle, be seated; how long will you regard the revolution (of Time)? * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * Why, when God's earth is so wide, have you fallen asleep in a prison? Avoid entangled thoughts, that you may see the explanation of Paradise. Refrain from speaking, that you may win speech hereafter. Abandon life and the world, that you may behold the Life of the world.
THE CALL OF THE BELOVED Every morning a voice comes to thee from heaven: "When thou lay'st the dust of the way, thou win'st thy way to the goal." On the road to the Ka'ba of Union, lo, in every thorn-bush Are thousands slain of desire who manfully yielded up their lives. Thousands sank wounded on this path, to whom there came not A breath of the fragrance of Union, a token from the neighbourhood of the Friend.
"THE BANQUET OF UNION" In memory of the banquet of Union, in yearning for His beauty They are fallen bewildered by the wine Thou knowest. How sweet, in the hope of Him, on the threshold of His Abode, For the sake of seeing His face, to bring night round to day! Illumine thy bodily senses by the Light of the soul: * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * Look not in the world for bliss and fortune, since thou wilt not find them; Seek bliss in both worlds by serving Him, Put away the tale of Love that travellers tell; Do thou serve God with all thy might.
"BE SILENT" Be silent that the Lord who gave thee language may speak, For as He fashioned a door and lock, He has also made a key.
"THOU DIDST GO TO THE ROSE-GARDEN" At last thou hast departed and gone to the Unseen; 'Tis marvellous by what way thou wentest from the world. Thou didst strongly shake thy wings and feathers, and having broken thy cage Didst take to the air and journey towards the world of Soul. Thou wert a favourite falcon, kept in captivity by an old woman: When thou heard'st the falcon-drum thou didst fly away into the Void. Thou wert a love-lorn nightingale among owls: The scent of the Rose-Garden, reached thee, and thou didst go to the Rose-Garden.
"THE WORLD GAVE THEE FALSE CLUES" The world gave thee false clues, like a ghoul: Thou took'st no heed of the clue, but wentest to that which is without a clue. Since thou art now the sun, why dost thou wear a tiara? Why seek a girdle, since thou art gone from the middle? I have heard that thou art gazing with distorted eyes upon thy soul: Why dost thou gaze on thy soul, since thou art gone to the Soul of soul? O heart, what a wondrous bird art thou, that in chase of divine rewards Thou didst fly with two wings to the spear-point, like a shield! The rose flees from autumn--O what a fearless rose art thou, Who didst go loitering along in the presence of the autumn wind! Falling like rain from heaven upon the roof of the terrestrial world Thou didst run in every direction till thou didst escape by conduit. Be silent and free from the pain of speech: do not slumber, Since thou hast taken refuge with so loving a Friend.
"HE COMES" "HE COMES" He comes, a moon whose like the sky ne'er saw, awake or dreaming, Crowned with Eternal Flame no flood can lay. Lo, from the flagon of Thy Love, O Lord, my soul is swimming, And ruined all my body's house of clay! When first the Giver of the grape my lonely heart befriended, Wine fired my bosom and my veins filled up, But when His image all mine eye possessed, a voice descended: "Well done, O sovereign Wine and peerless Cup!" Love's mighty arm from roof to base each dark abode is hewing Where chinks reluctant catch a golden ray. My heart, when Love's sea of a sudden burst into its viewing, Leaped headlong in, with "Find me now who may!"
"THE ROAD BE THINE TOWARDS THE SHRINE" O honoured guest in Love's high feast, O bird of the angel-sphere, 'Tis cause to weep, if thou wilt keep thy habitation here. A voice at morn to thee is borne--God whispers to the soul-- "If on the way the dust thou lay, thou soon wilt gain the goal." The road be thine toward the Shrine! and lo, in bush and briar, The many slain of Love and pain in flower of young desire, Who on the track fell wounded back and saw not, ere the end, A ray of bliss, a touch, a kiss, a token of the Friend!
THY ROSE THY ROSE Our Sweetnesses all bleat in Thee, Give infant lips their smiles benign. Thou crushest me to drops of Rose Nor 'neath the press do I repine. In Thy sweet Pain is pain forgot; For I, Thy Rose, had this design. Thou bad'st me blossom on Thy Robe, And mad'st me for all eyes Thy sign. And when Thou pour'st me on the world, It blows in beauty, all Divine.
"I SAW THE WINTER WEAVING" I saw the winter weaving from flakes a robe of Death; And the spring found earth in mourning, all naked, lone, and bare. I heard Time's loom a-whirring that wove the Sun's dim Veil; I saw a worm a-weaving in Life-threads its own lair. I saw the Great was Smallest, and saw the Smallest Great; For God had set His likeness on all the things that were.
"LOVE SOUNDS THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES" O, soul, if thou, too, wouldst be free, Then love the Love that shuts thee in. 'Tis Love that twisteth every snare; 'Tis Love that snaps the bond of sin; Love sounds the Music of the Spheres; Love echoes through Earth's harshest din. * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * The world is God's pure mirror clear, To eyes when free from clouds within. With Love's own eyes the Mirror view, And there see God to self akin.
"THE SOULS LOVE-MOVED" The souls love-moved are circling on, Like streams to their great Ocean King. Thou art the Sun of all men's thoughts; Thy kisses are the flowers of spring. The dawn is pale from yearning Love; The moon in tears is sorrowing. Thou art the Rose, and deep for Thee, In sighs, the nightingales still sing.
THE BELOVED ALL IN ALL My Soul sends up to Heaven each night the cry of Love! God's starry Beauty draws with might the cry of Love! Bright sun and moon each morn dance in my Heart at Dawn: And waking me at daylight, excite the cry of Love! On every meadow glancing, I see God's sun-beams play; And all Creation's wonders excite the cry of Love! * * * * * * * *¨* * * * * * * I, All in All becoming, now clear see God in All; And up from Union yearning, takes flight the cry of Love!
"THOU AND I"