He is still so close to God that all his meditations are ecstatic, all his dreams are visions.

His bosom swells, he sings as he breathes.
His lyre has but three strings--God, the soul, creation; but this threefold mystery envelopes everything, this threefold idea embraces everything.

The earth is still almost deserted.

There are families, but no nations; patriarchs, but no kings.

Each race exists at its own pleasure; no property, no laws, no contentions, no wars.