Rob us of our possessions, ne’er acquired
For our own use, but as a means to draw
Around us individuals, in whose souls
We could implant the germs of things to come.
These germs shall ripen when those men themselves
Find their way back from out the spirit-land
To live anew in future days on earth.
First Master of Ceremonies:
That this our brotherhood should be o’erthrown
By some obscure design of destiny,