Rumi was right

Where's the 'bode where My Love doth dine.
Be it meats or sweets or fruits of vine
Oh would He with me sup e'ermore
And I should drink from lips that pour.

My Love doth not live upon the blooming vale.
My Love doth not live in shelter 'gainst gail.
My Love doth not live near sandy shoal.
For my Love lives in the depths of my soul.

My Lover hath many admirers I know
Tho' we vie for attention, I've no foe.
For my Love has a heart that welcomes all
Those that hear and heed His call.

Sometimes Him I do avoid
Yet He bids me back o'erjoyed
True and Faithful as He there's no other
He is the One, and I, His Lover.