The Ascending Transmutation of Self

And the virgin that rode upon the bull cometh forth, led by all those Angels of the Holy Sevenfold Table, and they are dancing round her with garlands and sheaves of flowers, loose robes and hair dancing in the wind. And she smiles upon me with infinite brilliance, so that the whole Aethyr flushes warm, and she says with a subtle sub-meaning, pointing downwards: By this, that.