THE WINE HORN. I give you change.

THE COW HORN. I give thee stillness.

THE WINE HORN. I give you voice.

THE COW HORN. I give thee one love.

THE WINE HORN. I give you many.

SEELCHEN. [As if the words were torn from her heart] Both, both--I
will love!

And suddenly the Peak of THE GREAT HORN speaks.

THE GREAT HORN. And both thou shalt love, little soul! Thou shalt
lie on the hills with Silence; and dance in the cities with
Knowledge. Both shall possess thee! The sun and the moon on the
mountains shall burn thee; the lamps of the town singe thy wings.
small Moth! Each shall seem all the world to thee, each shall seem
as thy grave! Thy heart is a feather blown from one mouth to the
other. But be not afraid! For the life of a man is for all loves in
turn. 'Tis a little raft moored, then sailing out into the blue; a
tune caught in a hush, then whispering on; a new-born babe, half
courage and half sleep. There is a hidden rhythm. Change.
Quietude. Chance. Certainty. The One. The Many. Burn on--thou
pretty flame, trying to eat the world! Thou shaft come to me at
last, my little soul!