LITMIR.BIZ

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      Wandering through many a way to find mine own;

      Nor did I ever gain by cunning thought

      Whate’er of truth revealed itself to me.

      In fierce-fought battles have I torn the roots

      From out my spirit’s soil of all that brought

      Peace and contentment to me when a child.

      I understand indeed the heart that fain

      Would soar up to the heights—but for myself,

      When once I recognized that all I learned

      From spirit-teaching was an empty dream,

      I was compelled to find the surer soil

      That science and discovery create.

      Luna:

      We may surmise, each after his own kind,

      Where sense and goal of life doth lie for each.

      I altogether lack the power to prove

      According to the science of today,

      What spirit-teaching I have here received:

      But clear within my heart I feel and know

      My soul would die without this spirit-lore,

      As would my body, if deprived of blood.

      And thou, dear doctor, ’gainst our cause dost fight

      With many words, and what thou now hast told

      Of thy life’s conflict lends them weight indeed

      Even with those who do not understand

      Thy learned argument. Yet would I ask

      (Enter Theodora.)

      Exactly why it is that hearts of men

      Receive the word of Spirit readily,

      As though self-understood: yet when man seeks

      Food for his spirit in such learned words

      As thou didst use his heart grows chill and cold.

      Theodora:

      Although I am at home ’mid just such men

      As circle round me here, yet strangely sounds

      This speech I have just heard.

      Capesius:

      This speech I have just heard. What strangeness there?

      Theodora:

      I may not say. Do thou, Maria, tell.

      Maria:

      Our friend has oftentimes explained to us

      What strange experiences come to her.

      One day she felt herself completely changed,

      And none could understand her altered state.

      Estrangement met her wheresoe’er she turned

      Until she came into our circle here.

      Not that we fully understand ourselves

      What she possesses and what no one shares.

      Yet we are trained by this our mode of thought

      The unaccustomed to appreciate,

      And feel with every mood of humankind.

      One moment in her life, our friend perceived,

      All that seemed hers aforetime, disappear;

      The past was all extinguished in her soul.

      And since these wondrous changes came to her,

      This mood of soul hath oft renewed itself;

      It doth not long endure; and other times

      She lives her life as ordinary folk.

      Yet whensoe’er she falls into this state,

      The gift of memory doth fade away.

      She loseth from her eyes the power to see

      And senseth her surroundings, seeing not.

      With a peculiar light her eyes then glow,

      And pictured forms appear to her. At first

      They seemed like dreams; anon they grew so clear,

      That we could recognize without a doubt

      Some prophecy of distant future days.

      Full many a time have we seen this occur.

      Capesius:

      It is just this that little pleaseth me

      Amongst these men; who mingle with good sense

      And logic, superstition’s fallacies.

      ’Twas ever thus where men have walked this path.

      Maria:

      If thou canst still speak so, thou dost not yet

      Perceive our attitude towards these things.

      Strader:

      Well, as for me, I freely must confess,

      That I would sooner revelations hear

      Than speak of questionable spirit-themes.

      For even if I fail to read aright

      The riddle of such dreams, yet those at least

      I count as facts; and would ’twere possible

      To see one instance of the mystery

      Of this strange spirit-mood before mine eyes.

      Maria:

      Perchance it is—for look, she comes again.

      And it doth seem to me as though e’en now

      This mystic spirit-mood would show itself.

      Theodora:

      I am compelled to speak. Before my soul

      A pictured form stands wrapped in robes of light;

      From which strange words are sounding in mine ears.

      I feel myself in future centuries,

      And men do I behold as yet unborn:—

      They also see the pictured form; they too

      Can hear the words it speaks, which thus resound—

      ‘O ye, who lived in faith’s sincerity,

      Take comfort now in sight, and look on Me.

      Receive new life through Me. For I am He

      Who lived within the souls of those who sought

      To find Me in themselves, by following

      The gospel-words My messengers did bring

      And by their own devotion’s inward power.

      The light of sense ye saw—believe ye now

      In the creative spirit-world beyond.

      For now indeed ye have yourselves achieved

      One atom of divine prophetic sight.

      Oh, breathe it deep, and feel it in your souls.’

      A human form steps from that sphere of light.

      And speaks to me: ‘Thou shalt make

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