Show you the various truths and their relation. (_He waves his wand._) Now, to begin. The curtain is ascending, They meet at tea upon a flowery lawn. Fair, is it not? How sweet their souls are blending— The author calls the play “Laocoon.” A VOICE Only an earth dream. ANOTHER VOICE With which we are done. A flash of a comet Upon the earth stream. ANOTHER VOICE A dream twrice removed, A spectral confusion Of earth’s dread illusion. A FAR VOICE These are the ghosts From the desolate coasts. Would you go to them? Only pursue them. Whatever enshrined is Within you is you. In a place where no wind is, Out of the damps, Be ye as lamps. Flame-like aspire, To me alone true, The Life and the Fire. (BEELZEBUB, LOKI _and_ YOGARINDRA _vanish. The phantasmagoria fades out. Where the dead seemed to have assembled, only heaps of leaves appear. There is the light as of dawn. Voices of Spring._) FIRST VOICE The springtime is come, the winter departed. She wakens from slumber and dances light-hearted. The sun is returning, We are done with alarms, Earth lifts her face burning, Held close in his arms. The sun is an eagle Who broods o’er his young, The earth is his nursling In whom he has flung The life-flame in seed, In blossom desire, Till fire become life, And life become fire. SECOND VOICE I slip and I vanish, I baffle your eye; I dive and I climb, I change and I fly. You have me, you lose me, Who have me too well, Now find me and use me— I am here in a cell. THIRD VOICE You are there in a cell? Oh, now for a rod With which to divine you— SECOND VOICE Nay, child, I am God. FOURTH VOICE When the waking waters rise from their beds of snow, under the hill, In little rooms of stone where they sleep when icicles reign, The April breezes scurry through woodlands, saying “Fulfill! Awaken roots under cover of soil—it is Spring again.” Then the sun exults, the moon is at peace, and voices Call to the silver shadows to lift the flowers from their dreams. And a longing, longing enters my heart of sorrow, my heart that rejoices In the fleeting glimpse of a shining face, and her hair that gleams. I arise and follow alone for hours the winding way by the river. Hunting a vanishing light, and a solace for joy too deep. Where do you lead me, wild one, on and on forever? Over the hill, over the hill, and down to the meadows of sleep.