The magic old to life is brought by means of present science and thought: The path of life cannot be trod without the aid of Moses’ Rod.

The mind is skilful in artful tasks, and can assume a hundred masks: Poor helpless Love that knows no guise ain’t mullah, hermit or too wise.

Forbid the rest of lodge and bed to those who road of Love do tread: Like travelers they always roam, though they seem to stay at home.

Concern for journey’s food and steed, like burden great, retards your speed: Of this dead weight, if one be free, like breeze can cross the mount and sea.

No wealth is owned by dervish free; at call of death he yields with glee: He has not either gold or land; of him no one can tithe demand.