—Yesternight, towards morning, a warbling bird stole away my reason, my patience, my strength, and my understanding. My exclamations, by chance, reached the ear of a most intimate friend. “Never,” he said “could I believe that the voice of a bird should have such a power to disturb thy intellect!”—“It is not,” I replied, “befitting the condition of man, that a bird should be reciting its hymn of praise, and that I should be silent.” —One day the Prophet said to Abu Huraizah: “Do not come _every_ day, that our friendship may increase.” A holy man has said: “With all the beauty which attends the sun, I have never heard that anyone has taken him for a friend, except in winter, when he is veiled, and _therefore_ is loved.” —The treasure chosen by Lokman was patience: without patience there is no such thing as wisdom. —Were every night a night of power, _the Night of Power_, would lose its worth. Were every pebble a ruby, the ruby and the pebble would be of equal value. [Quran, Chap, xcvii: Verily we sent down the Quran in the night of al Kadr.—Therein do the angels descend, and the spirit of _Gabriel_ also, by the permission of their Lord _with his decrees_ concerning every matter. It is peace until morning. Comp. footnote to Lane’s transl. of the Quran and our Part II: Symbols]. —How should the multitude find its way to their secret chambers, for, like the waters of life, they are hidden in darkness? They kindle themselves the flame, which, as a moth, consumeth them; not wrapping themselves up like the silk-worm in its own web. Seeking for the Soul’s repose on the bosom which only can give repose, their lips are still dry with thirst on the very margin of the stream: Not that they have no power to drink the water, but that their thirst could not be quenched, even on the banks of the Nile. * * * * * “The bird of the morning only knoweth the worth of the book of the rose; for not every one who readeth the page understandeth the meaning.” (_Hafiz._) SAADIS’ BOOSTAN (FRUIT GARDEN OR GARDEN OF PLEASURE). _His_ nature’s true state all are helpless to read. The extent of _His_ glory, no mortal has found; _His_ exquisite beauty, no vision can bound. * * * * * To the skirt of _His_ praise Reason’s hand comes not nigh. * * * * * The mind can’t _this_ world by reflection embrace. * * * * * But the Lord of the sky and the earth’s rugged skin, On none shuts the door of subsistence for sin. Like a drop in the ocean of knowledge are seen Both His worlds, and the faults, He sees, kindly, He’ll screen. * * * * *