It is to throw away the healthful objects of life for a diseased dream,-worse than the Rosicrucians, it is to make a sacrifice of all human beauty for the smile of a Sylphid that never visits us but in visions."
"Ernest Maltravers, Complete"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton
A nymph must rise from the stream, a Sylphid from the rose, before I could allow another to steal you from my side.
"Lucretia, Complete"
Edward Bulwer-Lytton
An April night, when, after sparkling showers, The dewy gems betray the cradled flowers, As if some Sylphid, startled from her bed In the rath blossom by the mortal's tread, Had left behind her pearly coronal.
"The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P."
Edward Bulwer Lytton