“Suddenly the cathedral clock struck twelve with a melancholy clang.  It roused the Student Hieronymus from his dream; and rang in his ears, like the iron hoofs of the steeds of Time.  Themagic hour had come, when the Divinity of the lamp most willingly revealed herself to her votary.  The bronze figures seemed alive; a white cloud rose from the flame and spread itself through the chamber, whose four walls dilated into magnificent cloud vistas; a fragrance, as of wild-flowers, filled the air; and a dreamy music, like distant, sweetchiming bells, announced the approach of the midnight Divinity.  Through his streaming tears the heart-broken Student beheld her once more descending a pass in the snowy cloud-mountains, as, at evening, the dewy Hesperus comes from the bosom of the mist, and assumes his station in the sky.  At her approach, his spirit grew more calm; for her presence was, to his feverish heart, like a tropical night,—­beautiful and soothing and invigorating.  At length she stood before him revealed in all her beauty; and he comprehended the visible language of her sweet but silent lips; which seemed to say;—­’What would the Student Hieronymus to-night?’—­’Peace!’ he answered, raising his clasped hands, and smiling through histears.  ‘The Student Hieronymus imploreth peace!’ ‘Then go,’ said the spirit, ’go to the Fountain of Oblivion in the deepest solitude of the Black Forest, and cast this scroll into its waters; and thou shalt be at peace once more.  Hieronymus opened his arms to embrace the Divinity, for her countenance assumed the features of Hermione; but she vanished away; the music ceased; the gorgeous cloud-land sank and fell asunder; and the student was alone within the four bare walls of his chamber.  As he bowed his head downward, his eye fell upon a parchment scroll, which was lying beside the lamp.  Upon it was written only the name of Hermione!

“The next morning Hieronymus put the scroll into his bosom, and went his way in search of the Fountain of Oblivion.  A few days brought him to the skirts of the Black Forest.  He entered, not without a feeling of dread, that land of shadows; and passed onward under melancholy pines and cedars, whose branches grew abroad and mingled together, and, as they swayed up and down, filled the air with solemn twilight and a sound of sorrow.  As he advanced into the forest, the waving moss hung, like curtains, from the branches overhead, and more and more shut out the light of heaven; and he knew that the Fountain of Oblivion was not far off.  Even then the sound of falling waters was mingling with the roar of the pines overhead; and ere long he came to a river, moving in solemn majesty through the forest, and falling with a dull, leaden sound into a motionless and stagnant lake, above which the branches of the forest met and mingled, forming perpetual night.  This was the Fountain of Oblivion.