MY eager heart a pang of rapture stings
When the long-wandering wind unto me brings
The perfume of thy presence on its wings.
And so I wait in this my sorrow’s night,
Until thou givest to my weary sight
Thy beauty for my longing eyes’ delight.
The world through Islam light in darkness saw
And walked safe guided by thy Scroll of Law,
Bowing to God in hope and holy awe—
To God, Who sinners can forgive and lead,
Inscrutable Himself, yet Who can read
The hidden heart and comprehend its need.
O Prophet, shining like a lonely gem,
The fairest of Heaven’s highest diadem,
Look on men’s need and intercede for them.
Thou art the veil through which the light doth shine,
Nay, thou thyself the very torch divine—
Naught else behold these dazzled eyes of mine.