In you, my sisters, I see spirit-forms In whom dwell cosmic souls. Ye have the power To bring seed-forces from eternal realms To fruitage in humanity itself. Through my soul's gates oft have I found the way Into your kingdom, and have there beheld The primal shaping of this earthly globe With inner vision. Now your help I crave Since I am bidden to retrace the way That stretches back far from my present life To long past ages of humanity. Release my soul from consciousness of self In time-enclosed existence, and reveal The duties laid on me by former lives. A SPIRIT-VOICE,--THE SPIRITUAL CONSCIENCE: Her thoughts are seeking now For clues in Time's vast space. What as debt she still doth owe, What as duty is imposed, Arise from out her inmost depths of soul, From whose deepness dreaming Mankind doth guide his life, In whose deepness straying Mankind himself doth lose. Curtain falls; everybody still standing on the stage SCENE 3 A room whose prevailing tint is rose-red, cheerful atmosphere. Johannes at an easel; Maria enters later; finally the Spirit-Figures representing soul-powers. JOHANNES: Maria, when she saw my picture last, Stood silent. Heretofore she ever gave Hints to assist the progress of my work From her rich store of wisdom manifold. Little as I can trust myself to judge Whether my art indeed accomplishes The task our spirit-current hath imposed, Yet is my confidence in her complete. And ever through my spirit ring her words Which lent me strength and brought me happiness When I took courage and began this work. 'In such a way as this,' she said, 'thou canst Attempt this enterprise, and so reveal Thy spirit's visions unto earthly eyes. Thou wilt not fail to recognize how forms, Fashioned like thoughts, shape matter to their will; Nor yet how colour, to desire akin, Doth fill thy vital energy with warmth. In such wise canst thou even represent On canvas through thy skill the higher realms.' I feel the power that dwells within these words And diffidently yield to that belief That I am drawing nearer to the goal Which Benedictus hath appointed me. Full oft I sat discouraged at my work; It seemed at one time so presumptuous, And at another so impossible To represent in colour and in form The visions that are granted to my soul. How can the ceaseless web of spirit-life, Which is revealed to inner sight alone And is so far withdrawn from outward sense, Be manifest in matter which is drawn, As drawn it must be, from the realm of sense? This question have I asked myself full oft. Yet when I banish personality, And follow spirit-teaching faithfully, And feel myself caught up in blessedness Unto creative forces of the worlds, At once belief awakens in an art