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And if a nightingale soar upward from the clay of self and dwell in the rose-bower of the heart, and in Arabian melodies and sweet Iranian songs recount the mysteries of God-- a single word of which quickeneth to fresh, new life the bodies of the dead, and bestoweth the Holy Spirit upon the mouldering bones of this existence-- thou wilt behold a thousand claws of envy, a myriad beaks of rancor hunting after Him and with all their power intent upon His death.
(20:1)
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