From such a treasury of precious memories it will suffice my
purpose to cite but a single instance, that of one of His ardent lovers, a
native of Zavárih, Siyyid Ismá‘íl by name, surnamed Dhabíḥ (the Sacrifice), formerly a
noted divine, taciturn, meditative and wholly severed from every earthly tie,
whose self-appointed task, on which he prided himself, was to sweep the
approaches of the house in which Bahá’u’lláh was dwelling. Unwinding his green
turban, the ensign of his holy lineage, from his head, he would, at the hour of
dawn, gather up, with infinite patience, the rubble which the footsteps of his
Beloved had trodden, would blow the dust from the crannies of the wall adjacent
to the door of that house, would collect the sweepings in the folds of his own
cloak, and, scorning to cast his burden for the feet of others to tread upon,
would carry it as far as the banks of the river and throw it into its waters.
Unable, at length, to contain the ocean of love that surged within his soul,
he, after having denied himself for forty days both sleep and sustenance, and
rendering for the last time the service so dear to his heart, betook himself,
one day, to the banks of the river, on the road to Káẓimayn, performed his ablutions, lay down on his
back, with his face turned towards Baghdád, severed his throat with a razor,
laid the razor upon his breast, and expired. (1275 A.H.)