large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_03_legallienne_64kb_186
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English
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"But I know now," he once more resumed, "that there is a higher immortality than art's,—the immortality of love. BUT I KNOW NOW HE ONCE MORE RESUMED THAT THERE IS A HIGHER IMMORTALITY THAN ARTS THE IMMORTALITY OF LOVE
 loved less the object itself than what I could say about it, and when I had said something beautiful, something I could remember and say over and over to myself, I cared little if the object were removed. The spiritual essence of it seemed to have passed over into my words, and I loved the reincarnation best. Only at last have I awakened to realities, and the shadows flee away. The worshipper of the Image is dead within me. But alas! that little Wonder had to die first—" "I used to tell myself," he went on, "that human life, however exquisite, without art to eternalise it, was like a rose showering its petals upon the ground. For so brief a space the rose stood perfect, then fell in a ruin of perfume. Wonderful moments had human life, but without art were they not like pearls falling into a gulf? So I said: there is nothing real but art. The material of art passes—human love, human beauty—but art remains. It is the image, not the reality, that is everlasting. I will live in the image. O FIND SOONER OR LATER THAT I LOVED LESS THE OBJECT ITSELF THAN WHAT I COULD SAY ABOUT IT AND WHEN I HAD SAID SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL SOMETHING I COULD REMEMBER AND SAY OVER AND OVER TO MYSELF I CARED LITTLE IF THE OBJECT WERE REMOVED THE SPIRITUAL ESSENCE OF IT SEEMED TO HAVE PASSED OVER INTO MY WORDS AND I LOVED THE REINCARNATION BEST ONLY AT LAST HAVE I AWAKENED TO THE REALITIES AND THE SHADOWS FLEE AWAY THE WORSHIPPER OF THE IMAGE IS DEAD WITHIN ME BUT ALAS THAT LITTLE WONDER HAD TO DIE FIRST I USED TO TELL MYSELF HE WENT ON THAT HUMAN LIFE HOWEVER EXQUISITE WITHOUT ART TO ETERNALIZE IT WAS LIKE A ROSE SHOWERING ITS PETALS UPON THE GROUND FOR SO BRIEF A SPACE THE ROSE STOOD PERFECT THEN FELL IN A RUIN OF PERFUME WONDERFUL MOMENTS HAD HUMAN LIFE BUT WITHOUT ART WERE THEY NOT LIKE PEARLS FALLING INTO A GULF SO I SAID THERE IS NOTHING REAL BUT ART THE MATERIAL OF ART PASSES HUMAN LOVE HUMAN BEAUTY BUT ART REMAINS IT IS THE IMAGE NOT THE REALITY THAT IS EVERLASTING I WILL LIVE IN THE IMAGE
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