Couldst thou be told what hath befallen the Ancient Beauty,
thou wouldst flee into the wilderness, and weep with a great weeping. In thy
grief, thou wouldst smite thyself on the head, and cry out as one stung by the
sting of the adder.... By the righteousness of God! Every morning I arose from
My bed I discovered the hosts of countless afflictions massed behind My door,
and every night when I lay down, lo! My heart was torn with agony at what it
had suffered from the fiendish cruelty of its foes. With every piece of bread
the Ancient Beauty breaketh is coupled the assault of a fresh affliction, and
with every drop He drinketh is mixed the bitterness of the most woeful of
trials. He is preceded in every step He taketh by an army of unforeseen
calamities, while in His rear follow legions of agonizing sorrows.
- Baha’u’llah (Quoted by Shoghi Effendi in ‘The promised Day is Come’)
