Thou shalt instruct thy servant in his ways, thou shalt speak often with him.
(The scribe looketh upwards and crieth) Amen! Thou hast spoken it, Lord God!
Further Adonai spake unto V.V.V.V.V. and said:
Let us take our delight in the multitude of men!
Let us shape unto ourselves a boat of mother-of-pearl from them, that we may ride upon the river of Amrit!
Thou seest yon petal of amaranth, blown by the wind from the low sweet brows of Hathor?
(The Magister saw it and rejoiced in the beauty of it.) Listen!
(From a certain world came an infinite wail.)
That falling petal seemed to the little ones a wave to engulph their continent.
So they will reproach thy servant, saying: Who hath set thee to save us?
He will be sore distressed.
All they understand not that thou and I are fashioning a boat of mother-of-pearl. We will sail down the river of Amrit even to the yew-groves of Yama, where we may rejoice exceedingly.
The joy of men shall be our silver gleam, their woe our blue gleam — all in the mother-of-pearl.
(The scribe was wroth thereat. He spake:
O Adonai and my master, I have borne the inkhorn and the pen without pay, in order that I might search this river of Amrit, and sail thereon as one of ye. This I demand for my fee, that I partake of the echo of your kisses.)
(And immediately it was granted unto him.)