THOUGH admission be denied thee

Still keep knocking at the door;

If the Friend be cold and chide thee

Warm thy heart to Him the more.

Wilt thou ever be a stranger

To this Dear One? In thy breast,

In thine inner heart behold Him,

All His secrets manifest.

Rough the road, the goal is distant,

Robbers posted on their beat

Watch to steal thy faith’s dear treasure,

I have warned thee. Be discreet.

If the changeful wheel of fortune

Roll unkindly—let it roll.

These few days of life—what matter,

Be they passed in mirth or dole?

Makhfi, if the master-gardener

At the gate say, “Get thee hence,”

Wait without, and drink the perfume

Drifting to thee o’er the fence.