I felt myself draw near the bitter thought That cosmic fate hath foreordained the lot That victory in this material realm Must ever be to spirit-paths a foe. Release from this bewilderment of thought Was brought me by a seeming accident. It was my lot to make experiments In matters from such questions far removed; When suddenly there flashed across my mind A thought which showed me where the right path lay. Test followed close on test, until at last Such powers were gathered there in front of me, As in their full expression shall some day Through pure technique that freedom bring to man, In which his soul may find development. No more shall men be forced to dream away Their whole existence plant-like, fashioning In narrow factory rooms unlovely things. The powers of technique will be so unveiled That every man shall have what he may need To keep him in his work, in his own home Arranged by him, as he may think it best. I thought it well to speak first of this hope So that it may not seem quite out of place To say, what I must say, about this call Which now the Rosicrucian Brotherhood Issues to men who stand outside their league. 'Tis only when a human soul unfolds And finds its own true being in itself That those fine instincts, which from endless time Draw spirits each to each, can have full scope. And therefore, only he will think aright Who recognizes that this call conforms To signs, which we have learned to know full well. The brotherhood in future will bestow Its highest treasures freely on mankind Because all men must learn to long for them. FELIX BALDE: