The Pilgrims of the Rhine | Page 3

the Castle of Heidelberg and its Solitary Habitant

CHAPTER XXX.
No Part of the Earth really Solitary.--The Song of the Fairies.--The Sacred Spot.--The Witch of the Evil Winds.--The Spell and the Duty of the Fairies

CHAPTER XXXI.
Gertrude and Trevylyan, when the former is awakened to the Approach of Death

CHAPTER XXXII.
A Spot to be Buried in

CHAPTER THE
LAST The Conclusion of this Tale

THE IDEAL WORLD

I.
THE IDEAL WORLD,--ITS REALM IS EVERYWHERE AROUND US; ITS INHABITANTS ARE THE IMMORTAL PERSONIFICATIONS OF ALL BEAUTIFUL THOUGHTS; TO THAT WORLD WE ATTAIN BY THE REPOSE OF THE SENSES.
AROUND "this visible diurnal sphere" There floats a World that girds us like the space; On wandering clouds and gliding beams career Its ever-moving murmurous Populace. There, all the lovelier thoughts conceived below Ascending live, and in celestial shapes. To that bright World, O Mortal, wouldst thou go? Bind but thy senses, and thy soul escapes: To care, to sin, to passion close thine eyes; Sleep in the flesh, and see the Dreamland rise! Hark to the gush of golden waterfalls, Or knightly tromps at Archimagian Walls! In the green hush of Dorian Valleys mark The River Maid her amber tresses knitting; When glow-worms twinkle under coverts dark, And silver clouds o'er summer stars are flitting, With jocund elves invade "the Moone's sphere, Or hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear;"* Or, list! what time the roseate urns of dawn Scatter fresh dews, and the first skylark weaves Joy into song, the blithe Arcadian Faun Piping to wood-nymphs under Bromian leaves, While slowly gleaming through the purple glade Come Evian's panther car, and the pale Naxian Maid.
* "Midsummer Night's Dream."
Such, O Ideal World, thy habitants! All the fair children of creative creeds, All the lost tribes of Fantasy are thine,-- From antique Saturn in Dodonian haunts, Or Pan's first music waked from shepherd reeds, To the last sprite when Heaven's pale lamps decline, Heard wailing soft along the solemn Rhine.

II.
OUR DREAMS BELONG TO THE IDEAL.--THE DIVINER LOVE FOR WHICH YOUTH SIGHS NOT ATTAINABLE IN LIFE, BUT THE PURSUIT OF THAT LOVE BEYOND THE WORLD OF THE SENSES PURIFIES THE SOUL AND AWAKES THE GENIUS.--PETRARCH.--DANTE.
Thine are the Dreams that pass the Ivory Gates, With prophet shadows haunting poet eyes! Thine the belov'd illusions youth creates From the dim haze of its own happy skies. In vain we pine; we yearn on earth to win The being of the heart, our boyhood's dream. The Psyche and the Eros ne'er have been, Save in Olympus, wedded! As a stream Glasses a star, so life the ideal love; Restless the stream below, serene the orb above! Ever the soul the senses shall deceive; Here custom chill, there kinder fate bereave: For mortal lips unmeet eternal vows! And Eden's flowers for Adam's mournful brows! We seek to make the moment's angel guest The household dweller at a human hearth; We chase the bird of Paradise, whose nest Was never found amid the bowers of earth.*
* According to a belief in the East, which is associated with one of the loveliest and most familiar of Oriental superstitions, the bird of Paradise is never seen to rest upon the earth, and its nest is never to be found.
Yet loftier joys the vain pursuit may bring, Than sate the senses with the boons of time; The bird of Heaven hath still an upward wing, The steps it lures are still the steps that climb; And in the ascent although the soil be bare, More clear the daylight and more pure the air. Let Petrarch's heart the human mistress lose, He mourns the Laura but to win the Muse. Could all the charms which Georgian maids combine Delight the soul of the dark Florentine, Like one chaste dream of childlike Beatrice Awaiting Hell's dark pilgrim in the skies, Snatched from below to be the guide above, And clothe Religion in the form of Love?*
* It is supposed by many of the commentators on Dante, that in the form of his lost Beatrice, who guides him in his Vision of Heaven, he allegorizes Religious Faith.

III.
GENIUS, LIFTING ITS LIFE TO THE IDEAL, BECOMES ITSELF A PURE IDEA: IT MUST COMPREHEND ALL EXISTENCE, ALL HUMAN SINS AND SUFFERINGS; BUT IN COMPREHENDING, IT TRANSMUTES THEM.--THE POET IN HIS TWO-FOLD BEING,--THE ACTUAL AND THE IDEAL.--THE INFLUENCE OF GENIUS OVER THE STERNEST REALITIES OF EARTH; OVER OUR PASSIONS; WARS AND SUPERSTITIONS.--ITS IDENTITY IS WITH HUMAN PROGRESS.--ITS AGENCY, EVEN WHERE UNACKNOWLEDGED, IS UNIVERSAL.
Oh, thou true Iris! sporting on thy bow Of tears and smiles! Jove's herald, Poetry, Thou reflex image of all joy and woe, /Both/ fused in light by thy dear fantasy! Lo! from the clay how Genius lifts its life, And grows one pure Idea, one calm soul! True, its own clearness must reflect our strife; True, its completeness must comprise our whole; But as the sun