| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Poems of Goethe, Bowring, Tr. by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: Which not to all its holy sense explained,
When 'mid the crowd, their icy shadows flinging,
I saw a form, that glorious still remained.
And even there, where mould and damp were clinging,
Gave me a blest, a rapture-fraught emotion,
As though from death a living fount were springing.
What mystic joy I felt! What rapt devotion!
That form, how pregnant with a godlike trace!
A look, how did it whirl me tow'rd that ocean
Whose rolling billows mightier shapes embrace!
Mysterious vessel! Oracle how dear!
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Child of Storm by H. Rider Haggard: miles--and glad enough was I when we had waded the last stream and found
ourselves at its gate.
In response to the usual inquiries, conducted amid a chorus of yapping
dogs, I was informed that Tshoza did not live there, but somewhere else;
that he was too old to see anyone; that he had gone to sleep and could
not be disturbed; that he was dead and had been buried last week, and so
forth.
"Look here, my friend," I said at last to the fellow who was telling me
all these lies, "you go to Tshoza in his grave and say to him that if he
does not come out alive instantly, Macumazahn will deal with his cattle
as once he dealt with those of Bangu."
Child of Storm |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Case of the Registered Letter by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner: found in death the peace that I could never find on earth. There
was no chance of happiness for me since I have realised that I love
you, that you love me, and that I must give you up if I am to remain
what I have always been - in spite of everything - a man of honour.
Albert Graumann would keep his word, this I know. Wherever you
might follow me as my wife, there his will would have been before
us, blasting my reputation, blackening the flame which you were to
bear.
I could not have endured it. My soul was sick of all this secrecy,
sick at the injustice of mankind. In spite of worldly success, my
life was cold and barren in the strange land to which I had fled.
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