Were you indeed not blinded by the Curse Of Self-exile, that still grows worse and worse, Yourselves would know that, though you see him not, He is with you this Moment, on this Spot.
This was no friendship, to forsake your friend, To promise your support and at the end Abandon him-this was sheer treachery. Friend follows friend to hell and blasphemy- When sorrow comes one’s true friends are found; In times of joy ten thousand gather round.
The ocean can be yours; why should you stop Beguiled by dreams of evanescent dew? The secrets of the sun are yours, but you Content yourself with motes trapped in beams.
