Now all is as it were a Passion of great Peace; and in the 
Stillness I lift up my Soul like an offering and cry in mine Heart: Let 
me dwell at the feet of the Master! 
But the Silence swallows up those vain words; and they are 
smitten through with the fire of His blood, that transforms them to 
these: 
“At His feet is only the Earth, and that He breaks up into flowers; 
but all things that live are assumed to the Heart of the Master.” 
With that I cease to be myself at all: I am absorbed into His 
adorable essence, and my life is equally shed throughout the endless 
Aeons of Creation. 
Ay!—there is nothing separate any more at all; wherefore the 
Vision faileth, the Seer being one with the Seen.