XXVIII.

We visited together, in succession, every creek and cove, or sandy

beach of the lake, every mountain pass or ridge; every grotto or remote

valley; every cascade hidden among the rocks of Savoy. We saw more

sublime or smiling landscapes, more mysterious solitudes, more

enchanted deserts, more cottages hanging on the mountain brow half-way

between the clouds and the abyss, more foaming waters in the sloping

meadows, more forests of dark pines disclosing their gloomy colonnades

and echoing our steps beneath their domes, than might have hidden a

whole world of lovers. To each of these we gave a sigh, a rapture, or a

blessing; we implored them to preserve the memory of the hours we had

passed together, of the thoughts they had inspired, the air they had

given us, the drop of water we had drunk in the hollow of our hands,

the leaf or flower we had gathered, the print of our footsteps on the

dewy grass, and to give them back to us one day with the particle of

existence that we had left there as we passed; so that nought might be

lost of the bliss that overflowed within us, and that we might receive

back each minute of ecstasy, or emanation of ourselves, in that

faithful treasure house of Eternity, where nothing is lost, not even

the breath we have just exhaled, or the minute we think we have lost.

Never, perhaps, since the creation of these lakes, these torrents, and

these rocks, did such tender and fervent hymns ascend from these

mountains to Heaven! There was in our souls life and love enough to

animate all nature, earth, air, and water, rocks and trees, cedar and

hyssop, and to make them give forth sighs, aspirations, voice, perfume,

and flame enough to fill the whole sanctuary of Nature, even if more

vast and mute than the desert in which we wandered. Had a globe been

created for ourselves alone, we alone would have sufficed to people and

to quicken it, to give it voice and language, praise and love for all

eternity! And who shall say that the human soul is not infinite? Who,

beside the woman he adores, before the face of Nature, and beneath the

eye of God, e'er felt the limits of existence, or of his power of life

and love? O Love! the base may fear thee, and the wicked proscribe

thee! Thou art the high priest of this world, the revealer of

Immortality, the fire of the altar; and without thy ray man would not

even dimly comprehend Eternity!

Raphael; Or, Pages of the Book of Life at Twenty · 第 42 / 121 题