enduring, and the muscles more powerful, something after the manner of those
ideal limbs and muscles sculptured of old, these in the flesh and real. That
the organs of the body may be stronger in their action, perfect, and
lasting. That the exterior flesh may be yet more beautiful; that the shape
may be finer, and the motions graceful. These are the soberest words I can
find, purposely chosen; for I am so rapt in the beauty of the human form,
and so earnestly, so inexpressibly, prayerful to see that form perfect, that
my full thought is not to be written. Unable to express it fully, I have
considered it best to put it in the simplest manner of words. I believe in
the human form; let me find something, some method, by which that form may
achieve the utmost beauty. Its beauty is like an arrow, which may be shot
any distance according to the strength of the bow. So the idea expressed in
the human shape is capable of indefinite expansion and elevation of beauty.

Of the mind, the inner consciousness, the soul, my prayer
desired that I might discover a mode of life for it, so that it
might not only conceive of such a life, but actually enjoy it on
the earth. I wished to search out a new and higher set of ideas
on which the mind should work. The simile of a new book of the
soul is the nearest to convey the meaning--a book drawn from
the present and future, not the past. Instead of a set of ideas based on
tradition, let me give the mind a new thought drawn straight from the
wondrous present, direct this very hour. Next, to furnish the soul with the
means of executing its will, of carrying thought into action. In other
words, for the soul to
become a power. These three formed the Lyra prayer, of which the two first
are immeasurably the in more important. I believe in the human being, mind
and flesh; form and soul.

It happened just afterwards that I went to Pevensey, and