The Princess of Wied no longer lived at Monrepos with Fräulein Lavater. The Prince of Wied and his bride had made their home there. Only ten minutes’ distance from there, and nearly on the same height, the Princess had had a house built for herself. It is surrounded by woods, and has a beautiful view on the Rhine, the mountains, towns, and villages. After the village of Segendorf, which lies at the foot of the hill, the house of the Princess was called Segen House. By means of the silent, all-pervading spirit of love that reigns there, and the loving and active sympathy of the Princess for all suffering and those who were in need of help, the house soon became a real “Segenhaus” (House of blessing) to all who cross its hospitable threshold. The current of intellectual life has also accompanied the Princess of Wied to her new home.
In the summer of 1873 Princess Elizabeth travelled thither with her little daughter. It was the first time since her marriage that she had seen her German home. The happiness of those weeks which she spent with her mother, her brother and sister-in-law, and the dear old friends in town and country, was unclouded. “Monrepos! Monrepos! the laughing, rustling, and sweet-scenting forest welcomes me, and happy faces peer at me through it. Yes, Monrepos was my Paradise!” She seemed to live through her childhood and youth again with their deep joys and sorrows, inward struggles and ultimate peace. Yes, happiness is not to be found in an eternally blue sky, but in infinitesimally small things out of which we shape our life ourselves.
THE HOME OF MY FATHERS.
“The nightingale’s song of yearning
Is blent with the streamlet’s sigh;
Above and around the gables
The swallows circling fly.
And they sing of the passing races
That have lived and loved there of yore,
How they vanished away in their season,
Yet the line is renewed as before.
The seed of their spirit’s sowing
Still blooms, though the years decay;
The earth cannot hide or consume it,
Nor the storm cannot sweep it away.
The strength of the house is quickened
With the glow of ancestral fires;
The child from the father inherits,
And the ancient spirit inspires.
* * * * *
The Rhine oft rises in greeting
Around my city’s wall,
And twineth his arms about her,
For he loves her best of all.”