The Race is her care ; the Earth is her care ; And the vast unknown. Her greatest care that I be myself.
TRUTH: Nature is the only God. Her sole condition each to be himself.
POET: I see a star, and out of the silence I hear a whisper. It thrills me and enfolds me, Like the cool wind of the night Which passes over the Desert after the heat of day.
TRUTH: Freedom.
POET: I see a vision taller and brighter than the mirage ; A confused throng in robes of sunrise. Who lift reeds and palms and lyres and flashing swords ; And above them an angel, resting on the outstretched
arms Of Morning and of Evening, An angel whose face I cannot see.
TRUTH: Have you that vision?
POET: It shall sustain me unto the grave.
TRUTH: It will come.
If bvit one has seen it, it will come. Oh, Poet, let your living be its sacrament, And your dying like the planting of lilies. So that your dust shall bloom again. Giving blossoms sweeter than yourself.
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