Lo! Love has burst its prison. No parting now shall be, And life's full tide has risen Like to a boundless sea. One night of love supernal, Only one golden song, And the face of the Eternal To light our path along.
In addition, Novalis was a perfect woman-worshipper. He loved the Middle Ages and Catholicism. "The reformation killed Christianity; henceforth Christianity has ceased to exist." "Catholicism preached nothing but love for the holy, beautiful Lady of Christianity, who, endowed with divine virtue, was able to deliver all loyal hearts from the most terrible dangers." He wrote hymns to Mary in the style of the pietists, emphasising more especially the principle of motherliness:
Oh, Mary! At thy altar A thousand hearts lie prone, In this drear life of shadows They yearn for thee alone. All hoping to recover From life's distress and smart, If thou, oh holy Mother, Wilt take them to thy heart.
He idolised his fiancée, who died young. "Her memory shall be my better self, a sacred image in my heart before which a sanctuary lamp is ever burning, and which will save me from the temptations of the Evil One." And through the mouth of Heinrich of Ofterdingen he proclaims: "My beloved is the abbreviation of the universe; the universe is the elongation of my beloved." "Heaven has given you to me to worship. I adore you, you are a saint, you are divine glory, you are eternal life!"
This sentimental worship of woman, combined with an all-transcending insatiable sensuousness, produced the peculiar sexually-mystic world-feeling which is so characteristic of him. Night deeply moves his soul, longing, the memory of the beloved woman, adoration for the Virgin, his fantastic conception of an incarnated universe are fused into one great emotion:
Praise to the Queen of the World! The lofty herald Of the sacred world. The patroness Of rapturous love! Thou art coming, beloved-- Night has descended-- My soul is ravished-- Over is this earthly journey And thou art mine again. I gaze into thy dark, deep eyes, And see naught but love and happiness. We sink down on the altar of the night, The soft couch-- The veil falls, And kindled by the rapturous embrace, Glows the pure fire Of the sweet sacrifice.
