There is no strange and distant placeThat is not gladdened by His face.And every nation kneels to hailThe Splendour shining through Its veil.
Of threads of palm was the carpet spun Whereon he kneels when the day is done, And the foreheads of Islam are bowed as one! To him the palm is a gift divine, Wherein all uses of man combine, House and raiment and food and wine! And, in the hour of his great release, His need of the palms shall only cease With the shroud wherein he lieth in peace. "Allah il Allah!" he sings his psalm, On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm; "Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!"john greenleaf whittier
The world moves for love; it kneels before it in awe.