le moonlight. The wondrous voice
that awakened him is still audible, but instead of answering him it
echoes back from external objects. And if in childish timidity he
tries to escape from the mystery of his existence, seeking the unknown
with beautiful curiosity, he hears everywhere only the echo of his own
longing.

Thus the eye sees in the mirror of the river only the reflection of
the blue sky, the green banks, the waving trees, and the form of the
absorbed gazer. When a heart, full of unconscious love, finds itself
where it hoped to find love in return, it is struck with amazement.
But we soon allow ourselves to be lured and deceived by the charm of
the view into loving our own reflection. Then has the moment of
winsomeness come, the soul fashions its envelop again, and breathes
the final breath of perfection through form. The spirit loses itself
in its clear depth and finds itself again, like Narcissus, as a
flower.

Love is higher than winsomeness, and how soon would the flower of
Beauty wither without the complementary birth of requited love. This
moment the kiss of Amor and Psyche is the rose of life. The inspired
Diotima revealed to Socrates only a half of love. Love is not merely a
quiet longing for the infinite; it is also the holy enjoyment of a
beautiful present. It is not merely a mixture, a transition from the
mortal to the immortal, but it is a complete union of both. There is a
pure love, an indivisible and simple feeling, without the slightest
interference of restless striving. Every one gives the same as he
takes, one just like the other, all is balanced and completed in
itself, like the everlasting kiss of the divine children.

By the magic of joy the grand chaos of struggling forms dissolves into
a harmonious sea of oblivion. When the ray of happiness breaks in the
last tear of longing, Iris is already adorning the eternal brow of
heaven with the delicate tints of her many-colored rainbow. Sweet
dreams come true, and the pure forms of a new generation rise up out
of Lethe's waves, beautiful as Anadyomene, and exhibit their limbs in
the place of the vanished darkness. In golden youth and innocence time
and man change in the divine peace of nature, and evermore Aurora
comes back more beautiful than before.

Not hate, as the wise say, but love, separates people and fashions the
world; and only in its light can we find this and observe it. Only in
the answer of its Thou can every I completely feel