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The soul is a fallen woman, and the Lord, her unlikely suitor. She eyes Him always with suspicion, unable to believe that her longing is answered by His love. She is coy, elusive, silly. He is sincere and devoted in pursuit. By and by, He will win her heart, and, with it, the dowry of the world.

God is a furnace of mystery, and all creation is burning with questions. Every vision is a veil we must get beyond; every god beckons us to himself, only to yield us the way, that we may be beckoned by another, more godly than himself. The horizon recedes on the crest of an eternal dusk.