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THE KEY TO THE DAY & LOCK OF THE NIGHT
Author: Wishes to remain anonymous
Allah, has honored the men of Prayer,
Whose mosque is in them & everywhere,
Who amid revel's wildest din,
In wars & other severe disciplines,
On rolling deck, in thronged bazaars',
In strangers land, however far,
However different from their reach,
Of thought, in manners, dress or speech,
Will quietly their carpet spread,
To Makkah turn, with humble hearts & covered heads,
And as if blind to all around,
And deaf to each distracting sound,
In simple language, do they God adore,
In spirit to His presence soar,
And in the pauses of their prayers,
Rest as if wrapt in Glory there.
Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Uttered or unexpressed,
the motion of a hidden fire,
That trembles in the breast;
Prayer is the burden of a sigh,
The falling of a tear,
The upward glancing of an eye,
When none but Allah is near;
Prayer is the simplest form of speech,
That the lips of infants cry,
Prayer is the sublimest strain that reach,
Allah, his Majesty, most High;
Prayer is the contrite sinners voice,
Returning from his ways,
While angels in their praise rejoice,
And cry " Behold he prays!";
Prayers are the Muslims vital breath,
The Muslims native air;
His watchwords at the gate of Death,
And enters Heaven with his prayers.
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