"Surely," said Fayzenheim, faltering, "surely I know that voice!"
And Nymphalin's cloak dropped off her shoulder. "My English fairy!" andFayzenheim knelt beside her.
I wish you had seen the fay kneel, for you would have sworn it was solike a human lover that you would never have sneered at love afterwards.Love is so fairy-like a part of us, that even a fairy cannot make itdifferently from us,--that is to say, when we love truly.
There was great joy in the island that night among the elves. Theyconducted Nymphalin to their palace within the earth, and feasted hersumptuously; and Nip told their adventures with so much spirit thathe enchanted the merry foreigners. But Fayzenheim talked apart toNymphalin, and told her how he was lord of that island, and how he hadbeen obliged to return to his dominions by the law of his tribe, whichallowed him to be absent only a certain time in every year. "But, myqueen, I always intended to revisit thee next spring."
"Thou need'st not have left us so abruptly," said Nymphalin, blushing.
"But do _thou_ never leave me!" said the ardent fairy; "be mine, and letour nuptials be celebrated on these shores. Wouldst thou sigh for thygreen island? No! for _there_ the fairy altars are deserted, the faithis gone from the land; thou art among the last of an unhonoured andexpiring race. Thy mortal poets are dumb, and Fancy, which was thypriestess, sleeps hushed in her last repose. New and hard creeds havesucceeded to the fairy lore. Who steals through the starlit boughs onthe nights of June to watch the roundels of thy tribe? The wheels ofcommerce, the din of trade, have silenced to mortal ear the music of thysubjects' harps! And the noisy habitations of men, harsher than theirdreaming sires, are gathering round the dell and vale where thy co-mateslinger: a few years, and where will be the green solitudes of England?"
The queen sighed, and the prince, perceiving that he was listened to,continued,--
"Who, in thy native shores, among the children of men, now claims thefairy's care? What cradle wouldst thou tend? On what maid wouldst thoushower thy rosy gifts? What barb wouldst thou haunt in his dreams? Poesyis fled the island, why shouldst thou linger behind? Time hath broughtdull customs, that laugh at thy gentle being. Puck is buried in theharebell, he hath left no offspring, and none mourn for his loss; fornight, which is the fairy season, is busy and garish as the day. Whathearth is desolate after the curfew? What house bathed in stillnessat the hour in which thy revels commence? Thine empire among men hathpassed from thee, and thy race are vanishing from the crowded soil; for,despite our diviner nature, our existence is linked with man's. Theirneglect is our disease, their forgetfulness our death. Leave then thosedull, yet troubled scenes, that are closing round the fairy rings of thynative isle. These mountains, this herbage, these gliding waves, thesemouldering ruins, these starred rivulets, be they, O beautiful fairy!thy new domain. Yet in these lands our worship lingers; still can wefill the thought of the young bard, and mingle with his yearningsafter the Beautiful, the Unseen. Hither come the pilgrims of the world,anxious only to gather from these scenes the legends of Us; ages willpass away ere the Rhine shall be desecrated of our haunting presence.Come then, my queen, let this palace be thine own, and the moon thatglances over the shattered towers of the Dragon Rock witness ournuptials and our vows!"
In such words the fairy prince courted the young queen, and while shesighed at their truth she yielded to their charm. Oh, still may there beone spot on the earth where the fairy feet may press the legendary soil!still be there one land where the faith of The Bright Invisible hallowsand inspires! Still glide thou, O majestic and solemn Rhine, amongshades and valleys, from which the wisdom of belief can call thecreations of the younger world!
The Pilgrims of the Rhine Page 36