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, no more.” And the mourner passed on: a▓nd Antonio leaned his head upon h●is hands, as if some invisible stroke had cr●ushed him.Gone! and for ever! ●Oh, the unutte

rable agony to the y▓oung, the loving, contained in those brief▓ words! And never more did▓ the young sculptor hear that name.Never ●did he know the birth, the rank, the s●tory of her who so like a spirit had● crossed his path! Men knew not, dreamed not, t▓he tide of feeling on that young ●boy’s soul.Now in him were working the ▓silent influences of beauty, of hopeless love▓.They saw him engaged

each day, studying his a●rt, laboriously working under his master,● Ferrari, on some still, cold, soulless stat●ues, still to be seen in the Vil●la of Trepoli; and how could they imag●ine the glowing visi


  • ice f●ailed, a sickness as of death cre●pt
  • over him; yet, as she passed to see●k and remove
  • the portfolio of▓ the missing one, he
  • struggled to subdue tha●t inward trembling, and spea?/li>
  • 坘, but only a few brief, faltering acce●


ons of beauty, of poet●ry, at work within No! It was in after ▓years, when such forms of unrivalled loveliness,● of immortal beauty, sprung in almost breat●hing life

Ronald - nts came. “T



beneath the magic chisel● of Antonio Canova, that the vision o▓f early boyhood might be traced; and even no▓w, in the perfection to which his art a▓ttained, man may behold the ●realization of

those vague yet impelling ye▓arnings after Beauty, Infinity, all that Geni▓us craves, which had started in●to life and being from the lovely vision of his▓ first and only love. Amête and▓ Yaféh.AN ALLEGORY. Far i

n the illimitab●le space, seeming to earth as one of tho▓se bright yet tiny stars, which even the mo▓st powerful telescope will not increa▓se in size, so immeasurable


  • he Signora—her frie●nd—was she well—had she quit
  • te▓d Venice” A burst of agonizing tears ans●we
  • red him, and then the mournful c●onfirmation: ?/li>
  • 癟he Signora J●ulia had gone to that heaven whose c
  • hild▓ she was; earth would see her ●sweet face


is the distan▓ce between them and us, two Spirits▓ sate enthroned, each intrusted with an attri●bute of the Creator, with which● to renew His image in man a●nd vivify the earth.Their w●ork was one, eac

George - , list her glad laug


h so aiding each th▓at, though in outward form distinct, t●heir inward being was the same.The one, kn●own in the language of heaven as Amête—●and who, were there measurement of Ti●me in the c

Image 3


e upon him, a●nd receive his image within thei▓r hearts (and man did so a thousand● and a thousand times, though the Spirit’s ▓visible form was unrevealed), loved him, wit

Image 4


ition e●ver brought.A coronet of light circled his ▓brow, his wings were of living sapphire, and i▓n his hand he held a transparent spear.● Wherever he moved, darkn

Image 5

Phasellus eget pellentesque dui

and mutability ●touched him not; coeval with C●reation, he endured to Everlasting—▓ever presenting the same exquisite aspect●, producing on earth the sam▓e effect, and through

Image 6

Quisque cursus eget augue in vestibulum

changeful hue of ▓loveliness, yet retaining undisturbed his ▓own. Not such was the outward ▓appearance of Yaféh.Less m▓ajestic, less grave, Earth and H


eaven ever hail●ed him with rejoicing.The latter, indee▓d, knew him not apart from Amête; and the fo●rmer, in her darkness, sometimes greeted his se●mblance, not himself.Robed in light, dra▓wn not from the ethereal fount whic▓h circled Amête, but from those dazzling ir●i

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s-coloured rays, the reflection of whi▓ch we sometimes catch when the s●un shines upon a prism, the variou●s changes of his exquisite loveliness ▓were impossible to be defined.But it ▓was only when in close unity with

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