One gleam of summer’s sun the frigid cloak will foil.
So, too, that Vazīr’s scheme of fraud, nor his alone,
Reduced to nothing was by one word from God’s throne.
Such crafty wiles as these He changes into weal;
As poisons by His power receive the gift to heal.
What doubtful was, becomes confest, at His decree;
True love springs up, where hatred plotted was to be.
He safely carries through the fire His chosen friend;[108]
The fear of death He maketh peace of mind to lend.235
Through Him are treasures hid beneath the ruin’s waste;