Truth is eternal, exhaustless, unfathomable. Its Divine Fount is far beyond human discovery, however rich the intellect which aspires towards its inaccessible heights. It lies far above the topmost clouds which eye of man can scan, far beyond the Storm-King's throne, whence the flashing lightnings are hurled, where the mighty thunderbolts are forged; far above the vast waves of ether, that wide Planetary Sea where suns and worlds float and sail their swift, majestic currents; still farther on beyond the boundaries of this entire Universe of expressed Life, toward the Infinite, causeless Cause, the Unmanifest, the Silence, from whose profound depths all vibrations are stirred, all Light spoken, all Harmony breathed—even there and only thence has Truth its pristine, immaculate birth. No human ear can catch its full-toned syllables, no heart conceive the beauty, the grandeur of its sublime accents, but to the aspiring soul come glintings of its full-orbed Glory, flash-lights of its Perfection. And to that soul which likewise feels its own union with the same wondrous Source, there come in-breathings, or inspirations, of this Eternal Wisdom, whose translation into human speech serves to illumine mundane shadows.
Truth is eternal, exhaustless, unfathomable. Its Divine Fount is far beyond human discovery, however rich the intellect which aspires towards its inaccessible heights. It lies far above the topmost clouds which eye of man can scan, far beyond the Storm-King's throne, whence the flashing lightnings are hurled, where the mighty thunderbolts are forged; far above the vast waves of ether, that wide Planetary Sea where suns and worlds float and sail their swift, majestic currents; still farther on beyond the boundaries of this entire Universe of expressed Life, toward the Infinite, causeless Cause, the Unmanifest, the Silence, from whose profound depths all vibrations are stirred, all Light spoken, all Harmony breathed—even there and only thence has Truth its pristine, immaculate birth. No human ear can catch its full-toned syllables, no heart conceive the beauty, the grandeur of its sublime accents, but to the aspiring soul come glintings of its full-orbed Glory, flash-lights of its Perfection. And to that soul which likewise feels its own union with the same wondrous Source, there come in-breathings, or inspirations, of this Eternal Wisdom, whose translation into human speech serves to illumine mundane shadows.