But such an one, compact of suffering,
Of joy, of love, of pity, of despair;
Half senseless, half too subtle for my sense.
Wolfram.
He has passed through some unimagined test,
Or undergone some sorrow. Leave it so!
I saw high grief upon him, and new love!
Heinrich.
You are the poet! To your instinct then!
Here’s to the insight given us by God!