TRUTH: Is a flower which blooms and is gone Less beautiful than the oak, which endures for a century? Joy and Beauty are the breath of Creation ; These are the reasons for the mystery of Life. These are the reasons for the mystery of Death. And who denies Beauty, denies the soul.
POET: I have pushed aside the curtains of the universe And looked in ; and there. In a desolation never to be broken. Brooded my soul, in a great loneliness. I said to myself, "I will carve god-hood "Out of manhood ; "I will carve God out of myself."
XXIV. POET: There is a mighty throbbing of the heart of the World. The old Mother quivers with a fearful pulsing.
TRUTH: The birth throes. A new life is to be bom.
POET: Broad as the front of the sea, rolling, heaving, advancing,
I behold a grey and sullen multitude. Like the sea, it reaches restlessly beyond the sunrise and Steadily it rolls forward its crested might, overwhelming.
TRUTH: Revolution.
POET: The land shall be made clean, as meadows new-swept by
the west wind. It will break in thunder on the shore, spreading purity.
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