From truth’s cold realms. No longer wilt thou now
Weave only in thy pictures that which souls,
Still pent within the body, live in dreams,
For far from cosmic progress are those thoughts
Which but as self-begotten show themselves.
Thomasius:
’Tis love of self—although they may pretend
’Tis thirst for knowledge maketh them do this.
Maria:
Whoe’er desires to dedicate himself