LXXVI.

The Vine had struck a fibre; which about If clings my Being--let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without.

The sentiment of this quatrain is contained in C. 143.

Since Eternity itself was He created me, From the first he dictated to me the lesson of love, At that time a small filing of the dust of my heart, He made into a key of the treasure-house of substance.[78]

_Ref._: C. 143, L. 311, B. 307, P. 81, T. 134.--V. 314.