This is to push the reciprocity between man and nature to a point where the landscape is not only a state of the soul but the soul is a state of the landscape; just as in Shelley’s Ode, Shelley becomes the West Wind and the West Wind becomes Shelley.[217] The changes in the romantic soul are appropriately mirrored in the changes of the seasons. In Tieck’s “Genoveva,” for example, Golo’s love blossoms in the springtime, the sultry summer impels him to sinful passion, the autumn brings grief and repentance, and in winter avenging judgment overtakes the offender and casts him into the grave.[218] Autumn is perhaps even more than springtime the favorite season of the Rousseauist. The movement is filled with souls who like the hero of Poe’s “Ulalume” have reached the October of their sensations. Some traces of this sympathetic relation between man and nature may indeed be found in the literature of the past. The appropriateness of the setting in the “Prometheus Bound” of Æschylus would scarcely seem to be an accident. The storm in “Lear” may also be instanced. But as I have already said occidental man did not before Rousseau show much inclination to mingle with the landscape. The parallelism that Pater establishes in “Marius the Epicurean” between the moods of the hero and the shifting aspects of nature is felt as a distinct anachronism. If we wish to find any early approximations to the subtleties and refinements of the Rousseauist in his dealings with nature we need to turn to the Far East--especially to the Taoist movement in China.[219] As a result of the Taoist influence China had from a very early period poets and painters for whom the landscape is very plainly a state of the soul.