In the same week He revealed a Tablet to America, in which is the following prayer:

“Yá-Bahá’u’l-Abhá! (O Thou the glory of glories) I have renounced the world and the people thereof, and am heartbroken and sorely afllicted because of the unfaithful. In the cage of this world I flutter even as a frightened bird, and yearn every day to take my flight unto Thy kingdom. Yá-Bahá’u’l-Abhá! Make me to drink of the cup of sacrifice and set me free. Relieve me from these woes and trials, from these afllictions and troubles. Thou art He that aideth, that succoureth, that protecteth, that stretcheth forth the hand of help.”

After lunch He dictated some Tablets, His last ones, to Rúḥí Effendi. When He had rested He walked in the garden. He seemed to be in a deep reverie.

His good and faithful servant Ismá’íl Áqá, relates the following:

“Some time, about twenty days before my Master passed away, I was near the garden when I heard Him summon an old believer saying: ‘Come with me that we may admire together the beauty of the garden. Behold, what the spirit of devotion is able to achieve! This flourishing place was, a few years ago, but a heap of stones, and now it is verdant with foliage and flowers. My desire is that after I am gone the loved ones may all arise to serve the divine Cause and, please God, so it shall be. Ere long men will arise who shall bring life to the world.’

"Three days before His ascension whilst seated in the garden, He called me and said, ‘I am sick with fatigue. Bring two of your oranges for me that I may eat them for your sake.’ This I did, and He having eaten them turned to me saying, ‘Have you any of your sweet lemons?’ He bade me fetch a few . Whilst I was plucking them, He came over to the tree, saying, ‘Nay, but I must gather them with my own hands.’ Having eaten of the fruit He turned to me and asked, ‘Do you desire anything more?’ Then with a pathetic gesture of His hands, He touchingly, emphatically and deliberately said, ‘Now it is finished, it is finished!’

“These significant words penetrated my very soul. I felt each time He uttered them as if a knife were struck into my heart. I understood His meaning but never dreamed His end was so nigh.”

It was Ismá’íl Áqá who had been the Master’s gardener for well-nigh thirty years and who, in the first week after his bereavement, driven by hopeless grief, quietly disposed of all his belongings, made his will, went to the Master’s sister and craved her pardon for any misdeeds he had committed. He then delivered the key of the garden to a trusted servant of the household and, taking with him means whereby to end his life at his beloved Master’s tomb, walked up the mountain to that sacred place, three times circled round it and would have succeeded in taking his life had it not been for the opportune arrival of a friend, who reached him in time to prevent the accomplishment of his tragic intention.

During the evening of Friday, November 25th, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá attended the usual meeting of the friends in His own audience chamber.

In the morning of Saturday, November 26th, He arose early, came to the tea room and had some tea. He asked for he fur-lined coat which had belonged to Bahá’u’lláh. He often put on this coat when He was cold or did not feel well, He so loved it. He then withdrew to His room, lay down on His bed and said, “Cover me up. I am very cold. Last night I did not sleep well, I felt cold. This is serious, it is the beginning.”

After more blankets had been put on, He asked for the fur coat He had taken off to be placed over Him. That day He was rather feverish. In the evening His temperature rose still higher, but during the night the fever left Him. After midnight, He asked for some tea.