Seek ye to mould it free from fear, seek ye to mould it strong and firm, let no thought its mind pervert, mould it true and fit for birth.
Mould it friend, oh mother mould, in that likeness god of old, though thy name on earth is man, yet of that kingdom, prince!.
A child divine art thou.
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That which we mould again returns to earth, and this is a lesson, friends, which the Bright Ones unto thee have sent!
"The Beauteous Lily that neither toils nor spins will to the earth return again.
Pure was its perfume and its life, pure its color, snowy white; from its seed shall others come, which will bloom, then fade and die."
May we in such simple trust, hope again a lip to touch, fairer mother, fairer child, god and man unite as one.