I saw a statue, carven I knew not of what substance,
nor with what form or feature, because of the manifold
draper of black which fell about it as a veil or a pall.
Turning to Psyche, who was with me, I said, “O thou
who knowest by name and form the eidola of all things,
pray tell me what thing is this.” And she answered,
“The name of it is Silence, but neither man nor god nor
demon knoweth the form thereof, nor its entity. The
seraphim pause often before it, waiting the day when
the shape shall be unveiled, and the gods and demons
of the universe are mute in its presence, half-hoping,
half-fearing the time when these lips shall speak, and
deliver forth one dreameth not what of oracle, or query,
or doom, or judgement.”
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