But who can calculate evidence of the future fate of the soul?
If, indeed, the old order should not pass away--if the depths should remain below and the empyrean still keep its place above--then, to be sure, your studies would not be in vain; for then your soul, which is fixed on spiritual, supernatural and sublime conceptions, would be drawn upwards to the great Intelligence of which it is the offspring, to the very god, and become one with him--absorbed into him, as the rain-drop fallen from a cloud rises again and is reunited to its parent vapor.

Then--for there may be a metempsychosis--your songful spirit might revive to inform a nightingale, then..." Damia paused; and gazed upwards as if in ecstasy, and it was not till a few minutes later that she went on, with a changed expression in her face: "Then my son's widow, Mary, would be hatched out of a serpent's egg and would creep a writhing asp....

Great gods! the ravens! What can they mean?
They come again.

Air, air! Wine! I cannot--I am choking--take it away!--To-morrow--to-day....

Everything is going; do you see--do you feel?
It is all black--no, red; and now black again.