Aesthetic Poetry | Page 7

be filled by a
subject and to become penetrated with it; if the simple representation of
unartificial, true, and glowing feelings belongs to its most beautiful
adornments; if the faithful direction of the heart to the invisible and
eternal is the ground on which at all times the most lovely flowers of
poetry have sprouted forth, these legendary poems of early Germany, in
their lovely heartiness, in their unambitious limitation, and their pious
sense, deserve a friendly acknowledgment. What man has considered
the pious images in the prayer-books of the Middle Ages, the
unadorned innocence, the piety and purity, the patience of the martyrs,
the calm, heavenly transparency of the figures of the holy angels,
without being attracted by the simple innocence and humility of these

forms, the creation of pious artists' hands? Who has beheld them
without tranquil joy at the soft splendor poured, over them, without
deep sympathy, nay, without a certain emotion and tenderness? And the
same spirit that created these images also produced those poetical
effusions, the same spirit of pious belief, of deep devotion, of heavenly
longing. If we make a present reality of the heroic songs of the early
German popular poetry, and the chivalrous epics of the art poetry, the
military expeditions and dress of the Crusades, this legendary poetry
appears as the invention of humble pilgrims, who wander slowly on the
weary way to Jerusalem, with scollop and pilgrim's staff, engaged in
quiet prayer, till they are all to kneel at the Saviour's sepulchre; and
thus contented, after touching the holy earth with their lips, they return,
poor as they were, but full of holy comfort, to their distant home.
"While the knightly poetry is the poetry of the splendid secular life, full
of cheerful joy, full of harp-tones and song, full of tournaments and
joyous festivals, the poetry of the earthly love for the earthly bride, the
poetry of the legends is that of the spontaneous life of poverty, the
poetry of the solitary cloister cell, of the quiet, well-walled convent
garden, the poetry of heavenly brides, who without lamenting the joys
of the world, which they need not, have their joy in their Saviour in
tranquil piety and devout resignation--who attend at the espousals of
Anna and Joachim, sing the Magnificat with the Holy Mother of God,
stand weeping beneath the cross, to be pierced also by the sword, who
hear the angel harp with St. Cecilia, and walk with St. Theresa in the
glades of Paradise. While the Minne-poetry was the tender homage
offered to the beauty, the gentleness, the grace, and charm of noble
women of this world, legendary poetry was the homage given to the
Virgin Mother, the Queen of Heaven, transfiguring earthly love into a
heavenly and eternal love."
"For the twelfth and thirteenth centuries were the time of woman cultus,
such as has never been before or since seen; it is also the time of the
deepest and simplest and truest, most enthusiastic and faithful
veneration of the Virgin Mary. If we, by a certain effort, manage to
place ourselves back on the standpoint of childlike poetic faith of that
time, and set aside in thought the materializing and exaggeration of the

hagiology and Mariolatry produced by later centuries, rendering the
reaction of the Reformation unavoidable--if now in our age, turned
exclusively to logical ideas and a negative dialectic, we live again by
thought in those ages of feeling and poetry--if we acknowledge all
these things to be something more than harmless play of words and
fancy, and as the true lifelike contents of the period, then we can
properly appreciate this legendary poetry as a necessary link in the
crown of pearls of our ancient poetry."
In short, the first classical period of German literature was a time of
youthful freshness, of pure harmony, plunged in verse and song, full of
the richest tones and the noblest rhythm, so that rhyme and song alone
must be looked for as the form of poetic creations. Accordingly it had
no proper prose. Like our own youth, it was a happy, free, and true
youth, it knew no prose; like us it dreamed to speechless songs; and as
we expressed our youthful language and hopes, woes and joys, in
rhyme and song, thus a whole people and age had its beautiful youth
full of song and verse tones. The life was poetry and poetry was the
life.
Then came degeneracy and artifice; after that the great shock of the
Reformation; subsequently a servile and pedantic study of classical
forms without imbibing their spirit, but preparing the way for a truer art
spirit, extracted from their study by the masterly criticism of
Winckelmann and Lessing, till the second classical period of German
literature and poetry bloomed forth in full beauty,