Now void, now full, are Possibility’s store-houses vast; This glass-lined world’s the mirror where Lights Twain their phases cast; The blinded thing--in scattering strange fruits its hours are past; Ruined hath this old Vineyard been by autumn’s sullen blast. Oh, that I knew what here I am, that which indeed is mine! _Nābī._ GAZEL Ne’er a corner for the plaintive bulbul’s nest remaineth now; Ne’er a palm-tree ’neath whose kindly shade is rest remaineth now. Day and night some balm I’ve sought for, to relieve my wounded heart; Ne’er a cure within the heavens’ turquoise chest remaineth now. From its source, through every country, searched have I, but all in vain-- Ne’er a single drop, in mercy’s fountain blest, remaineth now. Empty earthen pots are reckoned one with jewels rich and rare; Ne’er a scale in value’s mart the worth to test remaineth now. ’Neath the earth may now the needy hide themselves, Nābī, away; Ne’er a turret on the fort of interest remaineth now. _Nābī._ MUNĀJĀT O Lord, to Thee is never a beginning, neither end; Thy mercy’s ocean, limitless, doth over all extend. E’en though the value-weighing hand of Thine unbounded might Hath wrought astounding marvels that all numbering transcend, Yet, Lord, Thou formedst Adam in the best of symmetry; Thou worthy of thy grace to make this folk didst condescend. Unfathomed and unsounded lies thy mercy’s ocean vast, Which truly hath made earth beneath its surging waves descend: O Lord, could any hurt or harm befall that shoreless deep, Did thou a single drop therefrom to this thy servant send? Since ‘Ārif owns a Master kind in graciousness like thee, O Lord, before another’s door were’t right for him to bend? O Lord, thus ever doth in joy thy blest device appear-- Thy greatest glory from the works of vileness thou dost rear! _‘Ārif._ GAZEL