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Seite 250 - On parent knees, a naked new-born child Weeping thou sat'st while all around thee smiled ; So live, that sinking in thy last long sleep, Calm thou mayst smile, while all around thee weep.
Seite 191 - Among the signs of his power are the night, and the day, and the sun, and the moon. Worship not the sun, neither the moon: but worship God, who hath created them; if ye serve him.
Seite 163 - It is not righteousness that ye turn your faces in prayer towards the east and the west, but righteousness is of him who believeth in GOD and the last day, and the angels, and the scriptures, and the prophets...
Seite 288 - And that last Song is not the Last ; my Soul Is spent — and still a Story to be told ! And I, whose Back is crooked as the Harp I still keep tuning through the Night till Day!
Seite 176 - I am not purified by their praises, 'Tis they who become pure and shining thereby. I regard not the outside and the words, I regard the inside and the state of heart. I look at the heart if it be humble, Though the words may be the reverse of humble. Because the heart is substance, and words accidents, Accidents are only a means, substance is the final cause. How long wilt thou dwell on words and superficialities? A burning heart is what I want; consort with burning!
Seite 144 - Hail to thee, then, O LOVE, sweet madness! Thou who healest all our infirmities! Who art the physician of our pride and self-conceit! Who art our Plato and our Galen! Love exalts our earthly bodies to heaven, And makes the very hills to dance with joy! 0 lover, 'twas love that gave life to Mount Sinai, When "it quaked, and Moses fell down in a swoon.
Seite 79 - O 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, Visiteth my soul from thee ; hence in worship I turn toward thee.
Seite 76 - Thou, whose memory quickens lovers' souls, Whose fount of joy renews the lover's tongue, Thy shadow falls across the world, and they Bow down to it ; and of the rich in beauty Thou art the riches that make lovers mad. Not till Thy secret beauty through the cheek Of Laila smite does she inflame Majnun, And not till Thou have sugar'd Shirin's lip The hearts of those two lovers fill with blood.
Seite 282 - That road be thine toward the Shrine ! and lo, in bush and briar, The many slain by 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 ! APPENDIX III.