and ever broader and juicier grew the leaves, ever louder and more jocund
the birds and beasts, balmier the fruits, darker the heavenly blue, warmer
the air, and more ardent his love. The time went ever faster, as if it
knew itself near the goal.

One day he met a crystal rivulet, and a multitude of flowers, coming down
into a valley between dark, columnar cliffs. They greeted him friendlily,
with familiar words. "Dear country-folk," said he, "where shall I find the
sacred dwelling of Isis? Hereabouts it must be, and here, I guess, you are
more at home than I." "We also are but passing through," replied the
flowers; "a spirit-family is on its travels, and we are preparing for them
their road and quarters. A little way back, however, we passed through a
country where we heard her name mentioned. Only go up, where we came down,
and thou wilt soon learn more." The flowers and the brook smiled as they
said it, offered him a cool draught, and went on their way. Hyacinth
followed their counsel, kept asking, and came at last to that dwelling he
had sought so long, which lay hid among palms and other rare plants. His
heart beat with an infinite longing, and the sweetest apprehension
thrilled him in this abode of the eternal seasons. Amid heavenly odours he
fell asleep, for Dream alone could lead him into the holy of holies. In
marvellous mode Dream conducted him through endless rooms full of strange
things, by means of witching sounds and changeful harmonies. All seemed to
him so familiar, and yet strange with an unknown splendour; then vanished
the last film of the perishable as if melted into air, and he stood before
the celestial virgin. Then he lifted the thin glistening veil, and--
Rosebud sank into his arms. A far-off music surrounded the mysteries of
love's reunion and the outpouring of their longings, and shut out from the
scene of their rapture everything alien to it.

Hyacinth lived a long time after with Rosebud and his happy parents and