I must rejoice to find my friend so wrapt
In work as to forget his friend herself.
Johannes:
Nay, speak not thus, since thou dost know full well
That I cannot create one single thought
Which hath not first been hallowed by thine aid.
No work of mine owes not its life to thee.
Through thy love’s fire have I been purified;
Through thee my art hath learned to represent
The beauty of the truths revealed to thee,