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His frank, defiant happiness in it, mixed with a due sense of burlesque, was something that those lacking his poet-soul could never imagine; they accounted it vain, weak; but that would not have mattered to him if he had known it.
And with the famous trio of the P.R.B. Millais, Rossetti, and Mr. Holman Hunt who is to state ex cathedra where influence was received, where transmitted; or whether the first may fairly be held to have been, during the short time of their complete union, the master-hand, the second the poet-soul, the third the conscience of the group?
His frank, defiant happiness in it, mixed with a due sense of burlesque, was something that those lacking his poet-soul could never imagine; they accounted it vain, weak; but that would not have mattered to him if he had known it.
Before that high-throned poet-soul Adela bent in humble reverence. Between Stella and those toilers, however noble and devoted, there could be no question of comparison. She was of those elect whose part it is to inspire faith and hope, of those highest but for whom the world would fall into apathy or lose itself among subordinate motives.
A poet-soul had incarnated there; he had the root of the matter in him; it was only the racial vehicle that was funny, as you may say. He was filled with a high conception of the stern grandeur Romans admired; and somehow or other, his lines carry the impress of that grandeur at times: there is inspiration in them. And now comes the point I have fetched all this compass to arrive at.
Like the architecture, the poems, too, seem hewn out of some massy region of mountain rock. AEschylus appears as an austere poet-soul, brooding among the grand, awful, and terrible myths which have floated from a primeval world, in which traditions of the Deluge, of the early, rudimental struggle between barbaric power and nascent civilization, were still vital."
"And you, who are yourself so clever, so well read you who would be so lonely with a wife who was not your companion, with whom you could not converse on equal terms of intellect, my dear friend, where could you find a companion in whom you would not miss the poet-soul of Isaura?
O poet-soul too early sped! O life so pure! O life so brief! Our hearts are moved with deeper grief, As, dwelling on thy gentle face, Its twilight smile, its tender grace, We fill the shadowy years to be With what had been thy destiny.
"And you, who are yourself so clever, so well read you who would be so lonely with a wife who was not your companion, with whom you could not converse on equal terms of intellect, my dear friend, where could you find a companion in whom you would not miss the poet-soul of Isaura?
"You would not say so, perhaps, my dear Lord," answered Leonard, with equal sadness, "if you knew how little what you call 'the Ideal' replaces to a poet the loss of one affection in the genial human world. Independent of real life! Alas! no. And I have here the confessions of a true poet-soul, which I will entreat you to read at leisure; and when you have read, say if you would still be a poet!"
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