days are over. I have now attained the waking age."

I had written thus far, and was about to rise to go off bedwards
when, through the window before me, I saw the heavy pall of July
cloud suddenly part a little, and a big star shine through. It
seemed to say to me: "Dreamland ties are made, and dreamland ties
are broken, but I am here for ever--the everlasting lamp of the
bridal night."

All at once my heart was full with the thought that my Eternal
Love was steadfastly waiting for me through the ages, behind the
veil of material things. Through many a life, in many a mirror,
have I seen her image--broken mirrors, crooked mirrors, dusty
mirrors. Whenever I have sought to make the mirror my very own,
and shut it up within my box, I have lost sight of the image.
But what of that. What have I to do with the mirror, or even the
image?

My beloved, your smile shall never fade, and every dawn there
shall appear fresh for me the vermilion mark on your forehead!

"What childish cajolery of self-deception," mocks some devil from
his dark corner--"silly prattle to make children quiet!"

That may be. But millions and millions of children, with their
million cries, have to be kept quiet. Can it be that all this
multitude is quieted with only a lie? No, my Eternal Love cannot
deceive me, for she is true!

She is true; that is why I have seen her and shall see her so