Classic Poem

To this doorway not for worship Or array, indeed, we've come;
Here, for shelter 'gainst ill fortune And affray, indeed, we've come.

From the bounds of non-existence, Farers of the stage of Love,
Even to the realms of Being, All this way, indeed, we've come.

Thy fresh down we spied and leaving Straight the meads of heav'n, the quest
Of that herb-of-grace of passion To essay, indeed, we've come.

Though at our command are treasures Such as Gabriel doth guard,
At her threshold, beggar-fashion, Us to lay, indeed, we've come.

Where's the anchor of thy mercy, Ark of Grace? For, drowned in sin,
To the ocean of God's bounty, Wellaway! indeed, we've come.

Gone the water of our face is: Rain on us, fault-washing cloud!
For, black-booked, unto our actions' Reckoning Day, indeed, we've come.

“Doff this woollen patchcoat, Hafiz; For behind the caravan,
“It with fire of sighs to kindle,” [Lovers say,] “indeed, we've come.”