Long time I told my friends my bitter grief,
And in the telling sought to find relief;
In silence now instead I take my rest,
And find that peace and loneliness are best.
MIR TAQI.
[XXXI.]
Wherever the Belovéd looks she stirs
Trouble and longing sore and eager breath
And deep desire in all her worshippers,
And some for her have drunk the cup of Death.