THE ANSWER
A Rose, in tatters on the garden path,
Cried out to God and murmured 'gainst His Wrath,
Because a sudden wind at twilight's hush
Had snapped her stem alone of all the bush.
And God, Who hears both sun-dried dust and sun,
Had pity, whispering to that luckless one.
'Sister, in that thou sayest We did not well—
What voices heardst thou when thy petals fell?'
And the Rose answered, 'In that evil hour
A voice said, "Father, wherefore falls the flower?
For lo, the very gossamers are still."
And a voice answered, "Son, by Allah's will!"'
Then softly as a rain-mist on the sward,
Came to the Rose the Answer of the Lord:
'Sister, before We smote the dark in twain,
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