n
you my protection and have stood by you as best I could. But the _Sh_ah
has found out about you and you know what a bloodthirsty tyrant he is. I
am afraid that he will seize you without warning, and he will hang you.
The best thing for you is to go on a journey. Leave this country, go
somewhere else, and escape from this peril."

Composed, happy, Ustad gave up his work, closed his eyes to his
possessions, and left for 'Iraq, where he lived in poverty. He had
recently taken a bride, and loved her beyond measure. Her mother arrived,
and by subterfuge, obtained his permission to conduct the daughter back to
Tihran, supposedly for a visit. As soon as she reached Kirman_sh_ah, she
went to the mujtahid, and told him that because her son-in-law had
abandoned his religion, her daughter could not remain his lawful wife. The
mujtahid arranged a divorce, and wedded the girl to another man. When word
of this reached Ba_gh_dad, Isma'il, steadfast as ever, only laughed. "God
be praised!" he said. "Nothing is left me on this pathway. I have lost
everything, including my bride. I have been able to give Him all I
possessed."

When Baha'u'llah departed from Ba_gh_dad, and traveled to Rumelia, the
friends remained behind. The inhabitants of Ba_gh_dad then rose up against
those helpless believers, sending them away as captives to Mosul. Ustad
was old and feeble, but he left on foot, with no provisions for his
journey, crossed over mountains and deserts, valleys and hills, and in the
end arrived at the Most Great Prison. At one time, Baha'u'llah had written
down an ode of Rumi's for him, and had told him to turn his face toward
the Bab and sing the words, set to a melody. And so as he wandered through
the long dark nights, Ustad would sing these lines:

I am lost, O Love, possessed and dazed,
Love's fool am I, in all the earth.
They call me first among the crazed,
Though I once came first for wit and worth.

O Love, who sellest me this wine,(13)
O Love, for whom I burn and bleed,
Love, for whom I cry and pine--
Thou the Piper, I the reed.

If Thou wishest me to live,
Through me blow Thy holy breath.
The touch of Jesus Thou wilt give
To me, who've lain an age in death.

Thou, both End and Origin,
Thou without and Thou within--
From every eye Thou hidest well,
And yet in every eye dost dwell.

He was like a bird with broken wings but he had the song and it kept him
going onward to his one true Love. By stealth, he approached t