united
Future with Present, and both with the holy Past time;
Were the Spring linked to Autumn, and the Summer to Winter,
Were into serious grace childhood with silver age fused;
Then, O spouse of my heart, would dry up the fountain of sorrow,
Every deep cherished wish would be secured to the soul."
Thus spake the queen, and gladsomely clasped her the radiant beloved:
Thou hast uttered in sooth to me a heavenly word,
Which long ago over the lips of the deep-feeling hovered,
But on thine alone first pure and in season did light.
Quickly drive here the chariot, ourselves we will summon
First the times of the year, then all the seasons of man.--

They ride to the sun, and first bring the Day, then the Night; then to
the North, for Winter, then to the South, to find Summer; from the East
they bring the Spring, from the West the Autumn. Then they hasten after
Youth, next to Age, to the Past and to the Future.

This is all I have been able to give the reader from my own
recollection, and from scattered words and hints in the papers of my
friend. The accomplishment of this great task would have been a lasting
memorial of a new poesy. In this notice I have preferred to be short
and dry, rather than expose myself to the danger of adding anything
from my own fancy. Perhaps many a reader will be grieved at the
fragmentary character of these verses and words, as well as myself, who
would not regard with any more devout sadness a piece of some ruined
picture of Raphael or Corregio.

L. TIECK.

NOTES.

I.

This _rifacimento_ of Arion's story is not mere mythological twaddle.
As allegories abound, and as in fact there is a suspicion that the
whole Romance may be only an allegory, an "Apotheosis of Poetry,"--the
reader must keep open his internal eye.

Arion is the Spirit of Poetry as embodied in any age, whether in a
single voice, or many. This the age always attempts to drown,--seldom
with applause. The sailors are the exponents of an age, or its
critics. In the case of Arion, they belonged to a certain tribe of
Philistines,--not yet extinct.[5] There is a deep significance in the
fact, that they resolutely stopped their ears against the Poet's
song. The treasures of the Poet are his ideas of the good and the
beautiful, which he fetches from his far home; for he co