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Canst Thou see any who have championed Thy Self, or who ponder on what hath befallen Him in the pathway of Thy love? Now doth My pen halt, O Beloved of the worlds? (217:6) The branches of the Divine Lote- Tree lie broken by the onrushing gales of destiny: Where are the banners of Thy succor, O Champion of the worlds?
(217:7)
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