Emblems of Kismet, or Destiny

How when the light and glow of life wax dim in thickly gath’ering gloom, Shall mortal scoff at sting of Death, shall scorn the victory of the Tomb?

One way, two paths, one end the grave. This runs athwart the flow’ery plain, That breasts the bush, the steep, the crag, in sun and wind and snow and rain:

Who treads the first must look adown, must deem his life an all in all; Must see no heights where man may rise, must sight no depths where man may fall.

Allah in Adam form must view; adore the Maker in the made. Content to bask in Mâyâ’s smile,* in joys of pain, in lights of shade.