210: O YE ROSES IN THE GARDEN OF GOD'S LOVE! O YE ...

O ye roses in the garden of God's love! O ye bright lamps in the
assemblage of His knowledge! May the soft breathings of God pass over you,
may the Glory of God illumine the horizon of your hearts. Ye are the waves
of the deep sea of knowledge, ye are the massed armies on the plains of
certitude, ye are the stars in the skies of God's compassion, ye are the
stones that put the people of perdition to flight, ye are clouds of divine
pity over the gardens of life, ye are the abundant grace of God's oneness
that is shed upon the essences of all created things.

On the outspread tablet of this world, ye are the verses of His
singleness; and atop lofty palace towers, ye are the banners of the Lord.
In His bowers are ye the blossoms and sweet-smelling herbs, in the rose
garden of the spirit the nightingales that utter plaintive cries. Ye are
the birds that soar upward into the firmament of knowledge, the royal
falcons on the wrist of God.

Why then are ye quenched, why silent, why leaden and dull? Ye must shine
forth like the lightning, and raise up a clamouring like unto the great
sea. Like a candle must ye shed your light, and even as the soft breezes
of God must ye blow across the world. Even as sweet breaths from heavenly
bowers, as musk-laden winds from the gardens of the Lord, must ye perfume
the air for the people of knowledge, and even as the splendours shed by
the true Sun, must ye illumine the hearts of humankind. For ye are the
life-laden winds, ye are the jessamine-scents from the gardens of the
saved. Bring then life to the dead, and awaken those who slumber. In the
darkness of the world be ye radiant flames; in the sands of perdition, be
ye well-springs of the water of life, be ye guidance from the Lord God.
Now is the time to serve, now is the time to be on fire. Know ye the value
of this chance, this favourable juncture that is limitless grace, ere it
slip from your hands.

Soon will our handful of days, our vanishing life, be gone, and we shall
pass, empty-handed, into the hollow that is dug for those who speak no
more; wherefore must we bind our hearts to the manifest Beauty, and cling
to the lifeline that faileth never. We must gird ourselves for service,
kindle love's flame, and burn away in its heat. We must loose our tongues
till we set the wide world's heart afire, and with bright rays of guidance
blot out the armies of the night, and t