It is very strange. Yet at the gates of mine eyes stand tears, like warriors upon the watch, that lean on their spears, listening 5 . The great and terrible Angel keeps on looking at me, as if to bar me from the vision. There is another forcing my head down in sleep. I have gone up again to the child, led by two Angels, abasing my head.
Every volition is inhibited.
I have tried to say a lot, but it has always got lost on the way. There has never been such peace, such silence. But these are positive things. Singing praises of things eternal amid the flames of first glory, and every note of every song is a fresh flower in the garland of peace. There is dew on all the fire.