The end of this _Prologue_ puts it as clearly as it was put in _Paracelsus_.

Nothing is changed in that.
"At Asolo," he continues, "my Asolo, when I was young, all natural objects were palpably clothed with fire.

They mastered me, not I them.
Terror was in their beauty.

I was like Moses before the Bush that burned.

I adored the splendour I saw.