Without faith the lot of the soul is hard; its growth is slow and meagre like that of a hot-plant between rocks. Thus am I--thus I was until today--and this fountain of my heart, always without an outlet, suddenly finds its way to the light, and banks of balsam-breathing fields, blooming like paradise, accompany it on its way. Oh, Goethe! My longing, my feelings, are melodies seeking a song to cling to! May I cling to thee? Then shall these melodies ascend high enough to accompany _thy_ songs!* * * June 20, 1807. * * * I cannot resist telling thee what I have dreamed of thee at night--as if thou wert in the world for no other purpose. Often I have had the same dream and I have pondered much why my soul should always commune with thee under the same conditions. It is always as though I were to dance before thee in ethereal garments. I have a feeling that I shall accomplish all. The crowd surrounds me. Now I seek thee, and thou sittest opposite me calm and serene as if thou didst not observe me and wert busy with other things. Now I step out before thee with shoes of gold and my silvery arms hanging down carelessly--and wait. Then thou raisest thy head, involuntarily thy gaze is fixed upon me as I describe magic circles with airy tread. Thy eye leaves me no more; thou must follow me in my movements, and I experience the triumph of success! All that thou scarcely divinest I reveal to thee in the dance, and thou art astonished at the wisdom concealed in it. Soon I cast off my airy robe and show thee my wings and mount on high! Then I rejoice to see thy eye following me, and I glide to earth again and sink into thy embrace. Then thou sighest and gazest at me in rapture. Waking from these dreams I return to mankind as from a distant land; their voices seem so strange and their demeanor too! And now let me confess that my tears are flowing at this confession of my dreams. * * * March 15, 1808. When in a few weeks I go into the Rhine country, for spring will be here then, I shall write thee from every mountain; I am always so much nearer thee when I am outside the city walls. I sometimes seem to feel thee then with every breath I take. I feel thee reigning in my heart when it is beautiful without, when the air caresses; yes, when nature is good and kind like thee, then I feel thee so distinctly! * * * * * * All other men seem to me as one and the same--I do not distinguish between them, and I take no interest in the great universal sea of human events. The stream of life bears thee, and thou me. In thy arms I shall pass over it, and thou wilt bear me until the end--wilt thou not? And even though there were thousands of existences yet to come, I can not take wing to them, for with thee I am at home. So be thou also at home in me--or dost thou know anything better than me and thee in the magic circle of life? * * * March 30, 1808.