The Scented Garden

150 The fame of Ecstasy the redemption of the World. XLI THE RIDDLE1 Habib hath heard ; let all Iran who spell aright from A to Z Exalt thy fame and understand with whom I made a marriage-bed ; Resort to tool-and-podex play till all the world in tears is shed Before the sword of Azrael, the trump of Israfel the dread,2 Exalt, exalt our love at last among the living and the dead, Resort to love, and press its purple calix with His purple head, Till fall the pearls with rubies strung, the dews upon the dawn that bled. Crimson, o lover, was our love, and crimson streams the sunset past ; Hyacinthine glows the vault of night, the Future certain, sure to last. Accept the gold of noon that pours its white-hot flood, its radiant blast !