My heart is deeply grieved to hear that thou Dost find such emptiness in everything Which thrives as highest good and very source Of sacred life itself within my heart. Ah, friend, behind the changing scenes of life That men call 'Being,' true life lies concealed Spiritual, everlasting, infinite. And in that life each soul doth weave its thread. I feel afloat in spirit potencies, That work, as in an ocean's unseen depths, And see revealéd all the life of men, As wavelets on the ocean's upturned face. I am at one with all the sense of Life For which men restless strive, and which to me Is but their inner self that stands revealed. I see, how oftentimes it binds itself Unto the very kernel of man's soul, And lifts him to the highest that his heart Can ever crave. Yet as it lives in me It turns to bitter fruitage, when mine own Touches another's being. Even so Hath this, my destiny, worked out in all I willed to give thee, when thou cam'st in love. Thy wish it was to travel at my side Unhesitating all the way, that soon Should lead thee to a full and perfect art. Yet what hath happened? All, that in mine eyes Stood forth revealed in its own naked Truth As purest life, brought death, my friend, to thee And slew thy spirit. JOHANNES: Aye. 'Tis so indeed. What lifts thy soul to Heaven's sun-kissed heights When through thy life it comes into mine own Thrusts my soul down, to death's abysmal gloom. When in our friendship's rosy-fingered dawn To this revealment thou didst lead me on, Which sheds its light into the darkened realms, Where human souls do enter every night, Bereft of conscious life, and where full oft Man's being wanders erring: whilst the night Of Death makes mock at Life's reality. And when thou didst reveal to me the truth Of life's return, then did I know full well That I should grow to perfect spirit-man. Surely, it seemed, the artist's clear keen eye, And certain touch of a creator's hand, Would blossom for me through thy spirit's fire And noble might. Full deep I breathed this fire Into my being; when--behold--it robbed The ebb and flow of all my spirit's power. Remorselessly it drove out from my heart All faith in this our world. And now I reach A point where I no longer clearly see, Whether to doubt or whether to believe The revelation of the spirit-worlds. Nay more, I even lack the power to love That which in thee the spirit's beauty shows. MARIA: Alas! The years that pass have taught me this: That mine own way to live the spirit-life Doth change into its opposite, whene'er It penetrates another's character. And I must also see how spirit-power Grows rich in blessing when, by other paths, It pours itself into the souls of men.