# Seven Valleys of Baha'u'llah: A Meditation

*Exported from [Holy-Writings.com](https://www.holy-writings.com/) on 2026-06-20 — 1 clipping.*

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> Source: Bahá'í Library Online (bahai-library.com), curated by Jonah Winters. Used by permission of the curator. Original citation: George Townshend, Seven Valleys of Baha'u'llah: A Meditation, bahai-library.com.
> ──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
> 
> Seven Valleys of Baha'u'llah:
> 
> A Meditation
> 
> George Townshend
> published in Bahá'í WorldVol. 7 (1936-1938), pp. 623-625
> 
> 1938
> 
> O my Lord, how many and how diverse are those holy melodies which Thou
> hast chanted to the wayward heart of man, summoning him to Thy dear presence,
> singing of the joys of eternal reunion, drawing him to the shrine of perfect
> Beauty.
> 
> Sometimes in tones more sweet, more thrilling than any mortal utterance
> Thou speakest as a father or a lover, wooing the heart of man which Thou hast
> created for Thyself to leave its forlorn plight of isolation.
> 
> Now Thou comest to man, openest to him the Hidden Way, tracest out its
> progress, stage by stage and step by step, and makest Thyself his companion,
> animating him, urging him onward, cheering his heart with words of love and
> courage.
> 
> This is for every man the one and only way that leads onward and ever
> onward to the fulfillment of destiny and of every desire. All other soul-
> paths soon or late close in and end, and leave the traveler in utter loss,
> unable to proceed or to return.
> 
> There is no goal anywhere but Thee, O my Lord; and no rest save in
> journeying to Thee!
> 
> In comparison with this spiritual journey to Thee, that path of life on
> which all men set forth at birth is but a mockery and a cheat. Disappointment
> and decay and loss reign over it. They who have trusted to it fill the air
> with mourning and woe. "Vanity of vanities," they cry, "all is vanity": "a
> short blossoming, a long withering"; and at the last they are left to "mere
> oblivion, sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything." Every step
> means the shortening of a measured life. For every man the journey ends not
> in meeting but in parting. And the deepening shadow of an assured and
> complete futility falls along the entire length of the path to its beginning.
> 
> Thou, my Lord, openest another way, a way hidden from unspiritual eyes, a
> way which travels far from the land of shadows and of age and leads through
> ever-growing light to realms of eternal peace and wisdom and undying love.
> 
> On this journey to Thee every movement is an everlasting gain, every
> effort is an immortal victory and that dear Paradise which is to be the
> traveler's goal is never wholly hidden but pours its fragrance far down all
> Thy Seven Valleys to sweeten the toils of the seeker's way.
> 
> Thou warnest us it is no easy enterprise. We all travel towards Thee
> through the same country towards the same Heaven and have the same Guide. But
> each of us must trace out his particular path little by little with his own
> eyes and tread it to the end mile after mile, inch by inch, upon his own feet.
> He cannot accomplish the journey nor travel forth upon it without pain; nor
> can he so much as find the beginning of the path without patience.
> 
> Thou art veiled from Thy servant, O my companion, and the entrance to the
> true path is hidden likewise. Though he knows it not, Thy servant's own self-
> love has woven this veil; and much is to be done, much to be suffered, ere he
> can see the door Thou hast opened before him.
> 
> Urged by an inborn need, Thy servant seeks blindly self-satisfaction in
> this activity and that. He follows in the train of the world, grasping at
> what he sees others grasp at. He becomes lost among wayward inclinations,
> among diverse examples and a multitude of counselors. There is no realization
> of desire in this; only disappointment and disillusion. The vision--the
> truth--of Something out of the plane of this activity abides with him--holds
> him. Its influence grows more distinct. This is of Thy Mercy, O Lord, which
> reaches through every veil! Thy servant knows of a surety there exists a
> Hidden Reality, and that with which he busies himself is a shadow-life. The
> stars, the seas, the lonely mountains, the quiet of the countryside, with one
> voice of ecstasy tell him of that Beauty which eludes him in human life. For
> lack of knowledge of Thee, my Lord, in ignorant love he makes the wilderness
> his home. But lo! he is rebuked by the sense of a greater beauty--the beauty
> of holiness. In the Sacred Writ of ancient days he reads of Beings who walked
> this earth of ours, full of love for all mankind, and spread about them a
> glory that outlasts the centuries and even at this distance of time makes all
> the splendor of dawn and day and night seem temporal and poor. These are the
> Prophets of Beauty, the Guardians of Perfect Truth, the Messengers to man of
> deathless Reality.
> 
> What, O Mighty Ones, is this earth whereon you walked, this mortality you
> shared? What is the wisdom of sorrow and wrong and mutability? Where is our
> deliverance--and why is there a Prison-house from which to be delivered? What
> is this "Knowledge of God" of which you speak as the great attainment of
> spiritual man, as the opening of mysteries, the end of illusion and ignorance?
> 
> Thy servant seeks for one who has this knowledge and would, if heaven
> permit, impart it to him.
> 
> Years pass; and he finds none.
> 
> Thy servant seeks for one who desires this knowledge and who will not
> rest till he find it. How precious would be a mortal companion in this
> search!
> 
> He tries many openings. Disappointment follows disappointment. He is
> baffled; and again baffled. He seems to be more completely at a loss, more
> near to desolation than ever, when lo! in a moment, almost unawares he finds
> Thee.
> 
> A moment of all moments!
> 
> At first it was but an echo that came from far away. There is no voice
> like the voice of the True One; nor is there any intonation of any voice like
> that of His!
> 
> In rapture, transported with delight, Thy servant answered that remote
> call.
> 
> "Child of the darkness that wandered in
> 
> gloom but dreamed of the light
> 
> Lo, I have seen thy splendor ablaze in the
> 
> heavens afar
> 
> Showering gladness and glory and shattering
> 
> the shadows of night.
> 
> And seen no other star.
> 
> "Thy words are to me as fragrances borne
> 
> from the gardens of heaven,
> 
> Beams of a lamp that is hid in the height
> 
> of a holier world,
> 
> Arrows of fire that pierce and destroy with
> 
> the might of the levin
> 
> Into our midnight hurled.
> 
> "Weak and unworthy my praise. Yet as
> 
> from its throbbing throat
> 
> Some lone bird pours its song to the flaming
> 
> infinite sky
> 
> So unto Thee in the zenith I lift from a
> 
> depth remote
> 
> This broken human cry."
> 
> Happiness wrapped Thy servant about, and his mind passed through opening
> doors of truth from wonder to wonder.
> 
> It is as though the few stray filaments of light which had pierced the
> gloom and saved it from utter darkness now strengthened one by one and slowly
> spread seeking perchance to join the edges of their rays and to combine at
> last to make one ocean of all-encompassing light.
> 
> By slow degrees there were revealed the outline and the perspective of
> the land wherein Thy servant dwelled and wandered. He watched and thought and
> measured and marveled. Change after change came upon him. The old loveliness
> and sanctitude that had seemed the utmost and the highest lost its supremacy;
> lost its sufficiency. A great Beauty dawned. A sovereign Glory outshone
> lesser Thrones. Thy servant's restless heart no longer wandered in
> uncertainty; it turned from reflected lights to the one source of light.
> 
> How little had he within that hall of blackness known of the realities
> that lay about him all his life! How unimaginably rich and vast this earth
> and heaven which the Dawn brings out of the Unseen! And this Thy servant,
> what is he in the midst of it, O Lord!
> 
> How little (as he bathed his thoughts in that increasing glory) how
> little did he grasp the meanings that were unfolded before him! How blind was
> he to opportunities Thou offeredst him! How deaf to Thy answer to his
> prayers!
> 
> Is he wiser now? What ancient darkness reigns yet in Thy servant's heart
> steeping his thoughts in error? What illusions still dim and distort his
> vision? What false affections numb his soul?
> 
> Far off the scene grows clear, but not the path at hand. He presses
> forward and misses the way and stumbles; and recovering presses on. Well has
> it been said, O Lord, that the path to Thee is narrow as a hair and sharp as a
> sword... Has light, too, its rhythms and its waves?
> 
> Now again it seems to brighten. Ah, it is one thing to greet a dawn that
> rises on the distant horizon; it is another to welcome it when it stands in
> fire on your own threshold. It is one thing to dream and to admire; it is one
> thing to applaud those who challenged terror and with unblenched cheek walked
> through the horrors of the Pit; it is another to recognize that Truth's
> sanctuary is guarded eternally by walls of flame through which no doubt or
> fear can ever pass alive.
> 
> Thy servant must go on. He cannot do otherwise. Sooner or later
> everyone who worships Truth and Thee must face the searing fire. But from him
> whose heart loves only Thee, the flames will bend back.
> 
> And when the Seven Valleys are traversed to the end; and the Goal is won
> and Thy Paradise attained, what will remain for any servant of Thine, but to
> begin his journey again and travel on and on for ever through infinitudes of
> wisdom and love, passing from light to fuller light, from Truth to further
> Truth, from Beauty to a more perfect Beauty?
> 
> METADATA
> 
> Views14898 views since posted 1999; last edit 2026-03-04 17:10 UTC;
> 
> previous at archive.org.../townshend_seven_valleys_meditation;
> URLs changed in 2010, see archive.org.../bahai-library.org
> Language
> English
> Permission
> © BIC, public sharing permitted. See sources 1, 2, and 3.
> History
> Typed 1999 by Gwyn Magaditsch; Proofread 1999 by Gwyn Magaditsch.
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> Shortlink: bahai-library.com/119
> Citation: ris/119
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> — *Seven Valleys of Baha'u'llah: A Meditation (Used by permission of the curator)*