Paracelsus. Part i.

I see my way as birds their trackless way.

I shall arrive,—what time, what circuit first,

I ask not; but unless God send his hail

Or blinding fire-balls, sleet or stifling snow,

In some time, his good time, I shall arrive:

He guides me and the bird. In his good time.

Paracelsus. Part i.

Are there not, dear Michal,

Two points in the adventure of the diver,—