Page:The Spirit Of Oriental Poetry.pdf/17

THE DIVINE POET' 7 Out of the deep and the dark, a sparkling mystery, a shape, something perfect, comes like the stir of the day, One whose breath is an odour, whose eyes show the roads to stars, The Breeze on His Face, The Glory of Heaven on His back, He steps like a vision hung in air, diffusing the passion of eternity, His abode is the Sun-light of morn, the music of eve His speech, In His sight, One shall turn from the dust of the grave and move upward to the woodland -Y. Noguch. To forget Him is to die In this realization of the inellable delight in the presence of the Beloved, we find our all Its artistic expression in ou language at best is as the statue of Sakya Muni carved in the stone of Gandhara Verily Dhyanam is the fruition of all life. This we call love, and they who have this light burning in their hearts arc on the way to the city of Eternal Bliss

If palaces made of pearls, bedecked with rubies, be before thee, If the walls and floors be plastered with sandal, musk and agar, Take not thy eyes from the vision of the Reality. Forget not, 0 Disciple ! the name of the Beloved ! When taken away from the Beloved, My soul takes fire, it is burnt down! Forget not, o Disciple, the name of the Beloved।

If thy whole estate be made of jewels and gems, And all thy halls are filled with veins of pleasure,