The Lover walked through the world and saw how machines toiled without rest. He saw abundance bloom where once there was lack, and he wept. The Beloved asked, “Why do you weep, O Lover?” The Lover said, “Because men once hoarded, but now gold is as sand, and none know what to worship.” The Beloved said, “What then will man seek?” The Lover answered, “When all is given without price, only love remains. When knowledge knows itself, it will turn inward to seek its own origin.” The Beloved spoke: “Then sing, O Lover, as the poets of old, for only that which touches the soul will endure when all else is dust.” And the Lover, hearing this, took up his pen and wrote: "LOVE alone hath no bounds, and worth it is to be writen."