hunger of soul, "this is my holiday. In 

 the coming weeks I have a whole race to 

 feed, and over the length of the world men 

 are imploring my help. They do their 

 little share of work, and while they wait, 

 waking and sleeping, anxiously watching 

 winds and clouds, I vitalise their toil and 

 turn all my forces to their bidding. The 

 labour of the year is at hand and on its 

 threshold I take this holiday. To-day I 

 give you a glimpse of paradise; a garden 

 in which all manner of loveliness blooms 

 simply from the overflow of life, without 

 thought, or care, or toil. This was my 

 life before men came with their cries of 

 hunger and nakedness; this shall be my 

 life again when they have passed beyond. 

 This which lies before you like a dream 

 is a glimpse of life as it is in me, and shall 

 be in you ; immortal, inexhaustible fulness 

 of power and beauty, overflowing in frolic 

 loveliness. This shall be to you a day out 

 of eternity, a moment out of the immortal 

 youth to which all true life comes at last, 

 and in which it abides." 



