still must follow rain! 
          Only not at death, for death—­
          Now I see—­is that first breath
          Which our souls draw when we enter
          Life, that is of all life centre.

Know ye Allah’s law is love, Viewed from Allah’s Throne above; Be ye firm of trust, and come Faithful onward to your home! "La Allah illa Allah! Yea, Mu’hid!  Restorer!  Sovereign!” say!

He who died at Azan gave
This to those that made his grave.

SOLOMON AND THE ANT

From ‘Pearls of the Faith’

Say Ar-Raheen! call Him “Compassionate,"
For He is pitiful to small and great.

’Tis written that the serving angels stand
Beside God’s throne, ten myriads on each hand,
Waiting, with wings outstretched and watchful eyes,
To do their Master’s heavenly embassies. 
Quicker than thought His high commands they read,
Swifter than light to execute them speed;
Bearing the word of power from star to star,
Some hither and some thither, near and far. 
And unto these naught is too high or low,
Too mean or mighty, if He wills it so;
Neither is any creature, great or small,
Beyond His pity, which embraceth all,
Because His eye beholdeth all which are;
Sees without search, and counteth without care. 
Nor lies the babe nearer the nursing-place
Than Allah’s smallest child to Allah’s grace;
Nor any ocean rolls so vast that He
Forgets one wave of all that restless sea.

          Thus it is written; and moreover told
          How Gabriel, watching by the Gates of Gold,
          Heard from the Voice Ineffable this word
          Of twofold mandate uttered by the Lord:—­
          “Go earthward! pass where Solomon hath made
          His pleasure-house, and sitteth there arrayed,
          Goodly and splendid—­whom I crowned the king. 
          For at this hour my servant doth a thing
          Unfitting:  out of Nisibis there came
          A thousand steeds with nostrils all aflame
          And limbs of swiftness, prizes of the fight;
          Lo! these are led, for Solomon’s delight,
          Before the palace, where he gazeth now
          Filling his heart with pride at that brave show;
          So taken with the snorting and the tramp
          Of his war-horses, that Our silver lamp
          Of eve is swung in vain, Our warning Sun
          Will sink before his sunset-prayer’s begun;
          So shall the people say, ’This king, our lord,
          Loves more the long-maned trophies of his sword
          Than the remembrance of his God!’ Go in! 
          Save thou My faithful servant from such sin.