"Then, again, suddenly I stood where I had been, and saw the Grave reopen, and from it troop back a myriad of bright and beautiful beings. I could see that some were souls re-born, some were lovely thoughts, dreams, hopes, aspirations, influences, powers and mighty spirits too. And all sang: "'We are the Sons of Joy.' "That was my dream." We were still for a few moments. Then the Will spoke. "This dream of ours is one thing as the Body's, and another as the Soul's. It is yet another, as I remember it:-- "On a night of a cold silence, when the breath of the equinox sprayed the stars into a continuous dazzle, I heard the honk of the wild geese as they cleft their way wedgewise through the gulfs overhead. "In the twinkling of an eye I was beyond the last shadow of the last wing. "Before me lay a land solemn with auroral light. For a thousand years, that were as a moment, I wandered therein. Then, far before me, I saw an immense semi-circle of divine figures, tall, wonderful, clothed with moonfire, each with uplifted head, as a forest before a wind. To the right they held the East, and to the left the West. "'Who are you?' I cried, as I drifted through them like a mist of pale smoke. "'We are the Laughing Gods,' they answered. "Then after I had drifted on beyond the reach of sea or land, to a frozen solitude of ice, I saw again a vast concourse stretching crescent-wise from east to west: taller, more wonderful, crowned with stars, and standing upon dead moons white with perished time. "'Who are you?' I cried, as I went past them like a drift of pale smoke. "'We are the Gods who laugh not,' they answered. "Then when I had drifted beyond the silence of the Pole, and there was nothing but unhabitable air, and the dancing fires were a flicker in the pale sheen far behind, I saw again a vast concourse stretching crescent-wise from east to west. They were taller still; they were more wonderful still. They were crowned with flaming suns, and their feet were white with the dust of ancient constellations. "'Who are you!' I cried, as I went past them like a mist of pale smoke. "'We are the Gods,' they answered. "And while I waned into nothingness I felt in my nostrils the salt smell of the sea, and, listening, I heard the honk of the wild geese wedging southward. "That was my dream." When the Will ceased, nothing was said. We were too deeply moved by strange thoughts, one and all. Was it always to be thus ... that we might dream one dream, confusedly real, confusedly unreal, when we three were one; but that when each dreamed alone, the dream, the vision, was ever to be distinct in form and significance?