unknown.

Not to-morrow but to-day. Not the to-morrow of the tumulus, the hour of the
sunshine now. This moment give me to live soul-life, not only after death.
Now is eternity, now I am in the
midst of immortality; now the supernatural crowds around me. Open my mind,
give my soul to see, let me live it now on earth, while I hear the burring
of the larger bees, the sweet air in the grass, and watch the yellow wheat
wave beneath me. Sun and earth and sea, night and day--these are the least
of things. Give me soul-life.

There is nothing human in nature. The earth, though loved so dearly, would
let me perish on the ground, and neither bring forth food nor water. Burning
in the sky the great sun, of whose company I have been so fond, would merely
burn on and make no motion to assist me. Those who have been in an open boat
at sea without water have proved the mercies of the sun, and
of the deity who did not give them one drop of rain, dying
in misery under the same rays that smile so beautifully on the flowers. In
the south the sun is the enemy; night and coolness and rain are the friends
of man. As for the sea, it offers us salt water which we cannot drink. The
trees care nothing for us; the hill I visited so often in days gone by has
not missed me. The sun scorches man, and willing his naked state roast him
alive. The sea and the fresh water alike make no effort to
uphold him if his vessel founders; he casts up his arms in vain, they come
to their level over his head, filling the spot his body occupied. If he
falls from a cliff the air parts; the earth beneath dashes him to pieces.

Water he can drink, but it is not produced for him; how many thousands have
perished for want of it? Some fruits are produced which he can eat, but they
do not produce themselves for him; merely for the purpose of continuing