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To
‘ABD U’L-BAHA’
HAIL to Thee, Scion of Glory, Whose utterance poureth abroad The joy of the heavenly knowledge and the light of the greatest of days! Poet of mysteries chanting 1n rapture the beauty of God, Unto Thee be thanksgiving and praise!
Child of the darkness that wandered in gloom but dreamed of the light, Lo! I have seen Thy splendour ablaze in the heavens afar Showering gladness and glory and shattering the shadows of night, And seen no other star.
Thy words are to me as fragrances borne from the garden of heaven, Beams of a lamp that is hid in the height of a holier world, Arrows of fire that pierce and destroy with the might of the levin Into our midnight hurled.
Sword of the Father! none other can rend the dark veil from my eyes, None other can heat from my limbs with the shearing blade of God’s might The sins I am fettered withal and give me the power to rise And come forth to the fullness of light.
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Lo! Thou hast breathed on my sorrow the sweetness of faith and
of hope,
Thou hast chanted high paeans of joy that my heart’s echoes ever repeat
And the path to the knowledge of God begins to glimmer and ope Before my faltering feet.
Weak and unworthy my praise. Yet, as from its throbbing throat Some lone bird pours its song to the flaming infinite sky, So unto Thee in the zenith I lift from a depth remote
This broken human cry.
