But music's sister-art, poetry, which had not yet been proclaimed as its Siamese twin, as it was later in the artistic works of the future, must not be omitted. For Neukuhren possessed a much-made-of visitor in the young poet Schöner, who on this occasion must tune his lyre, all the more so because he was a friend of the young betrothed. Her engagement was really tantamount to a refusal for him, and it was a strange suggestion that he should celebrate that refusal with his poetical flowers; but Eva belonged already to his recollections, his love for her was now but a poetical page in his album; the renunciation was no longer hard for him. But another difficulty arose, his muse which was accustomed to sing the dawn of day on the political horizon, and the resurrection of nations, was not adapted for such domestic events; he could not discover the right key for it, such social and drawing-room poetry was not worthy of him, and reduced him to despair. He sprang up from his work-table and with hurried steps walked up and down the room. When he began to compose about roses, he always thought of the sword beneath the roses, the sword of Harmodius and Aristogiton, that he loved to wield in verse against all tyrants, and that which he was used to sing of passion's devouring flames was not fitted for a bridal idyll. Schöner was obliged to curb his glowing fancy. At last he had managed to produce a marriage poem, but when he read it over, he was alarmed at the reminiscences of the bridesmaids' wreath of violet silk which had slipped in. Schiller certainly had created no master-piece when he addressed Demoiselle Slevoigt in a nuptial poem-- "_Zieh holde Braut mit unserm Segen, Zieh hin auf Hymen's Blumenwegen_."