life. He, in truth, is
the Great Giver, the All-Bountiful.

LX: MY CAPTIVITY CAN BRING ON ME NO SHAME....

My captivity can bring on Me no shame. Nay, by My life, it conferreth on
Me glory. That which can make Me ashamed is the conduct of such of My
followers as profess to love Me, yet in fact follow the Evil One. They,
indeed, are of the lost.

When the time set for this Revelation was fulfilled, and He Who is the Day
Star of the world appeared in 'Iraq, He bade His followers observe that
which would sanctify them from all earthly defilements. Some preferred to
follow the desires of a corrupt inclination, while others walked in the
way of righteousness and truth, and were rightly guided.

Say: He is not to be numbered with the people of Baha who followeth his
mundane desires, or fixeth his heart on things of the earth. He is My true
follower who, if he come to a valley of pure gold, will pass straight
through it aloof as a cloud, and will neither turn back, nor pause. Such a
man is, assuredly, of Me. From his garment the Concourse on high can
inhale the fragrance of sanctity.... And if he met the fairest and most
comely of women, he would not feel his heart seduced by the least shadow
of desire for her beauty. Such an one, indeed, is the creation of spotless
chastity. Thus instructeth you the Pen of the Ancient of Days, as bidden
by your Lord, the Almighty, the All-Bountiful.

LXI: THE WORLD IS IN TRAVAIL, AND ITS AGITATION...

The world is in travail, and its agitation waxeth day by day. Its face is
turned towards waywardness and unbelief. Such shall be its plight, that to
disclose it now would not be meet and seemly. Its perversity will long
continue. And when the appointed hour is come, there shall suddenly appear
that which shall cause the limbs of mankind to quake. Then, and only then,
will the Divine Standard be unfurled, and the Nightingale of Paradise
warble its melody.

LXII: RECALL THOU TO MIND MY SORROWS, MY CARES...

Recall thou to mind My sorrows, My cares and anxieties, My woes and
trials, the state of My captivity, the tears that I have shed, the
bitterness of Mine anguish, and now My imprisonment in this far-off land.
God, O Mustafa, beareth Me witness. 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