O magical web, that forms mine own self,
Show me the pictured being which my sight
Without my sympathy did form for me.
Whereto doth this word’s power conduct me now?
A spirit-star on yonder shore of souls—
It shines,—it draweth nigh—as spirit-form,
Grows brighter as it nears;—now forms appear;—
They act as beings act who are alive;—
A youthful mystic—and a sacred flame,
The stern call of the highest hierophant