One means comes from another means; and cause from
Without a means or cause, no means from self e'er rose.
The means by which all prophets' miracles are wrought,
Of higher order are than earthly means; no doubt.
Man's mind can compass how these latter act, and when;
The former hidden are from all but prophet's ken.
These former 'tis that give the latter power to act;
And rarely, that, their normal action, counteract.
A means a rope is, by the help of which we reach;
And in this worldly pit by means each reaches each.
Around its coiling cylinder the well-rope's wound.
To shut our eyes to this would blind indeed be found.
The ropes by means of which results are seen to steer,
In this our world, deem not they're moved by star or
sphere;
Lest thou become confused and giddy like a wheel;—
Take fire, consume, like tinder, sparks of shame to feel.
The air becomes a fire at times by God's decree.
Both air and fire run wild with joy, His means to be.
The streams of mercy, the consuming fires of wrath,
Thou'lt see, my son, are both from God. Look well, 120
forsooth.
Were not the wind aware of God's almighty power,
How had it ever blown the blast of 'Ãd's 1 last hour?
Around his Muslims Hūd a saving circle drew.
The wind within that mystic circuit softly blew.
While all that were beyond were dashed to pieces soon.
Like chaff before the breeze, their limbs around were
strewn.
1 ‘Ād, a pre-Semitic, perhaps Turanian, people in south-eastern Arabia, often mentioned in the Qur'an. They refused to believe the prophet Hūd
(supposed to be Heber), and were destroyed, lxix. 6-7, by an eight days' tempest.
Shayban the shepherd, too, a circle round his fold Was used to draw; whate'er the season, hot or cold; On Fridays, when, at midday's sacred hour of praise, 125 He to a congregation hied; lest wolf should seize. No wolf was ever known to break the holy spell; Nor sheep to stray beyond; each knew the limit well, To wind, to wolf, to sheep, and lusts of every one, The circle traced by saint a barrier was, like stone. To Gnostic, so likewise, the harmless gale of death Blows mild and gentle, summer-breezes-like on heath, And fire was fangless; could not Abraham offend. How should it hurt him? Was he not God's "Chosen Friend"?
The pious man burns not in fire of fleshly lust.
But sinners still consumed are upon earth's crust.
The Red Sea waves, all raging by divine command,
The host of Israel knew; but Pharaoh's armies drown'd.
The earth, again, wide gaping at Jehovah's word,
Did Korah and his wealth devour; but Moses spared.1
In Jesu's hand, warmed with his breath, the fictile clay
As living birds arose, spread wing, and flew away.2
Thy lauds and praises, too, breath from thy frame account.
Sincerity them vivifies; to heaven they mount.
The rock of Sion danced at sight of Moses' God 3
135 As perfect cenobite; its faults were all removed.
What wonder if a hill should dance and saint become?
Was not great Moses' self a clod of clay and loam ?
The Jewish king now manifested great surprise.
These things, he said, were mockeries, mere patent lies.
His councillors conjured him more sedate to be;
And not to push his hardihood to rash degree.
These councillors he fettered, into prison cast;
Injustice to injustice adding, first and last.
A shout was heard from heaven when matters reached
"Jew dog! Prepare for vengeance from on high! 140 Aroynt !"
The fire then blazed amain; its flames lapped all around.
It slew and burnt the mob of Jews from off the ground.
Their origin was hell, from whence their souls had come;
Their goal was also hell; to it they now went home,
The Jewish race is hellish; many proofs are shown.
Parts are they of a whole accursed; as is well known.
Their nature hellish; all their joy God's saints to burn.
Their fire recoiled upon themselves. 'Twas justice' turn.
For them, who were, by nature, children born of wrath,
The lowest depths of hell were fittest cells, forsooth.
A mother ever yearneth after her own child;
A dam is ever followed by her offspring wild.
Though true that water may enclosed be in a tank,
The air will it absorb. 'Twas thence to earth it sank.
Air sets it free; direct,
restores it to its source,
None perceive its course.
So, too, our breath, in manner like, steals soul
By little and by little, from this house of clay,
In words of praise, ascending to God's holy throne,
From us to where He reigns;-as known to Him alone.
Our breathings rise on wings of true sincerity,
The offerings of our hearts to all eternity.
We then receive rewards for those poor words of praise,
In tenfold showers of mercy from th' Ancient of Days.
And we are still constrained to utter songs of thanks,
That man should so be raised above th' angelic ranks.
This rising and descending alternates for aye.
The Lord forbid that I should fail therein one day!
We're drawn, we are attracted, so to love the Lord;
155 As we were first instructed, firm to trust His word.
Each man will turn his eyes in hope towards the place,
Where he has tasted joy some former day of grace.
The pleasures of each kind are most with their own kin;
As part must share with whole its qualities, its sin.
Things needs must be assigned unto a common class,
If aught they have in common; two will form a race.
Thus bread and water are not human at the first;
But human they become, through hunger and through
thirst.
In form they have no tie with us of human kind; 160 But through a special link they kindred with us find.
If pleasure, then, we find in what's not of our race, Be sure there's some connection through which this takes place.
If that connection but resemblance be in shape,
It will not last; it's for a time; it must escape.
'Tis true that birds find pleasure in a whistle's note; But then they fancy 'tis their mate's, on whom they dote. And if a thirsty man take pleasure in his wine, He tastes the lees, and loathes. To water he'll incline. A pauper may amused be with counterfeited coin; 165 But take this to the mint; defaced 'twill be, in fine. Then be not thou misled with gilded counterfeit ; Delusion will thee plunge headlong into hell's pit.
KALIL' and Dimna's book relates a charming tale,1
From which males may a moral draw;-and eke, female.
Within a shelter'd vale, four-footed game in droves,
Were kept in tremor by a lion from its groves.
So frequently had he borne victims off from thence,
The vale a prison had become in every sense.
A consultation held, they fair proposals state,
To satisfy the lion's hunger by a rate;
But on condition that he rapine lay aside,
And not prolong disquiet in that valley wide.
The lion gave consent, if they'd perform their part;
Remarking: "I've a victim been to wily art.
Man persecutes me with his deadly stratagems;
The snake and scorpion sting me ;-rancour's true emblems.
But worse than any man, in venom and in spleen,
The fleshly lust within me traitor's always been.
But I've grown wary. Has not Ahmed said: Rely!
Believers are not twice caught by the self-same lie?'" 2
Their answer was: "O most sagacious, knowing guide,
Thy caution pray dismiss ; decree of God abide.
1 Kalila and Dimna is the Arabic "Proverbia Arabica," ii. p. 488, n. version of Pilpay's fables. 278, as an answer from Muhammed to a foe twice made prisoner.
* This proverb is given in Freytag's
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