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Into the eye of the ascetic I shall look, he who for many moons hath stood in cold silence, even he shall feel his heart reel with love like unto the young bridegroom.
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Dulness shall glow. Thy slow tongue, my child, shall become eloquent. Idleness shall become active, even bereavement shall be consoled and despair shall flee at My coming.
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Am I not the magician of all time, who by the spell of My love do charm a waiting, passive, alas!–a blinded world? Aye, even thy heart of hearts shall be laid bare and those who seek shall come and feed of the peace thereof. Lo, on the hilltop for thee my sun spreads cheer!
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Be thou he, who shall invest in courage, climbing the rocky hill, where thou shalt embrace cheer and she shall bring forth the baby, that is thy desire, and because of the baby which thou holdest in thy arms, because of that thy path shall be light, for lo! the babe is what men call success.
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O My young son! Do thou take to the young thy onward march, even thy sunlight, which I for thee have created, so that thou mayest make the poisonous and damp vapors, which will surround thee, even of great warmth and of fragrance and golden hue. Take thou the Seed of My Name on thy lips, aye, and the tree of thy affection shall bend its every leaf to look in Mine Eye, and there shall behold the gladness and hope of My life. There shalt thou read thy Beatitude.