demand this of them. No tomb can keep its secret from me. The tomb of death is the womb of life.

I am, I was, I shall he, but I am being made—fashioned after the likeness of God.

I must still come forth from my lesser self and go up higher.

I must come forth from all selfs less than the divine.

I must ascend again and again, stopping for a season to see and know and going on toward divinity.

I must leave my garment “in their hands” while I press forward to my enduring habitation. As a naked soul I mount higher and higher leaving to the dust that which is of the dust. I go whence I came.

I walk through the valley of shadow; it cannot hold me to itself. I fear no evil in my journey, for there is no evil in it.

I have put from me the sense of evil which gave birth to its kind.