dered at the beauty of an imaginary
world; now with eyes that had looked on desolation I perceived that
these visions were true. For had they been no more than airy fancies,
they surely had not endured throughout these long ages in our laden and
mortal air.

It was not merely the beauty of a literary setting which had preserved
them: the craftsman's skill might indeed have enhanced their natural
splendour, but it could not have alone inspired them with this perennial
life. The gem with fire in its heart outlives the delicate setting;
though it may be maltreated and buried for centuries by the wayside, it
will come to light when the gold that framed it is long battered or
lost, and will be desired by new generations for its inherent and
unalterable beauty.

Not Plato's or Dante's creative power, but truth surviving all
incarnations of genius, has kept this celestial gem aglow: they have but
celebrated that which was never mortal, and guided wandering eyes to
heaven's most beautiful star. This intangible and unincarnate vision
exacts more from its votaries than the love which walks the earth:
holding the lover ever in the strain of apprehension, it inures him to
unwearying worship, and itself moving in regions incorruptible, never
loses the glory of its first hour. The years may pass, but one face,
like a hallowed thing, abides continually; years may fret and corrode
other ideals, but to this they add beauties of ever fresh significance.
The auroral glow is always round it, brightening the world, until it
becomes an emblem of illumination and the symbol of eternal truths. This
visionary presence wakes aspiration to new effort and touches the
intellect with passion; beleaguered thought sallies out with new
strength, and the frontiers of darkness recede before it. From this
comes the quickening of the heart without which hope wanes and the mind
is barren: the deep pure joy of contemplation awakens all that is best
in the soul, which goes towards it on tense wings of desire. And as with
time it draws further from the earth, and, following, the soul essays
ever higher flights, it is often poised at a great height as in a trance
of motion, whence it looks back upon the world it has left, and round it
upon other worlds. Then, its love-range being wondrously expanded, it
sees beyond that visionary countenance, which dissolves and forms again
like a delicate wreath of mist; and clear starlight falls upon it from
every side, so