  Where is the pious doer? & I the estray’d one, where? Behold how far the distance, from his safe home to here! Dark is the stony desert, trackless & vast & dim, Where is hope’s guiding lantern? Where is faith’s star so fair? My heart fled from the cloister, & chant of monkish hymn, What can avail me sainthood, fasting & punctual prayer? What is the truth shall light me to heav’n’s strait thoroughfare? Whither, O heart, thus hastest? Arrest thee & beware! See what a lone adventure is thine unending quest! Fraught with what deadly danger! Set with what unseen snare! Say not, O friend, to Hafez, ‘Quiet thee now & rest!’ Calm & content, what are they? Patience & peace, O where?
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