To him made ‘Alī answer: “For the truth I fight. God’s servant am I. Slave I’m not to fleshly might. ‘God’s lion’ I’ve been named; not ‘Ravening Wolf of Lust;’ My actions are the proof my faith is in the Just. God is the Archer. I’m His bow;--and arrow, too. He is the Smiter. I’m the weapon;--sword, bamboo. 70 ‘Thou castedst not, when stones thou castedst in the fight.’[415] God is the Warrior mighty. I’m dust in His sight. Thought of myself I’ve banished, wholly, from my path. Save God, all else as naught I hold;--a mower’s swath. I’m but a shadow;--shadow cast by Sun of Truth. Door-keeper am I;--veil, I’m not, to hide His sooth. I’m a sword. My trenchancy’s union with God. In battle, life I give. I slay not whom’s downtrod. Blood does not soil the blade I wield in righteous cause; Nor gusts of passion raise a craving for applause. 75 A straw I’m not. A mountain am I;--firm, staid, fast. No whirlwind can remove me with its tearing blast. ’Tis sticks and straws, alone, are driven by the storm. Their nature is to move;--to every breath conform. The gust of anger, breath of lust, and blast of greed,— Each agitates the man not anchored in Truth’s creed. Firm mountain am I. God it is that firmness gives. Were I a straw, His whirlwind is the force that drives. A breath from God alone has power to move my soul. My love for God’s the motive o’er me has control. 80 Their anger rules e’en kings. My anger is my slave. My wrath I’ve bridled;--bitted;--leave, it aye must crave. My anger’s stifled by reflection’s strong embrace. God’s wrath to me’s a message of His pardoning grace. My roof’s a ruin, true; but light pours through the rent. I’m dust. But from my soil flowers blow, and yield sweet scent. “Just cause if I perceive, with foes when waging war, I make no scruple, but my sword from blood debar. For God’s sake do I love. Such is my fame with men. My hate’s in Truth’s sole cause. I’m raging lion then. 85 My generosity springs all from love of God. For God’s sake, too, I’m parsimonious as clod. I’m avarice, munificence, to one sole end. I’m God’s in all things. To myself I ne’er attend. That which I do, for God’s sake flows; not from schedule. ’Tis not a guess, an inference;—’tis sight’s safe rule. I’ve no occasion to investigate, to seek. God’s prompting’s what I follow, docile, meek.