DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.847#0449
420 CXUSITJM.
hideously feeling about for their remaining mem-
bers ; others are bony skeletons, lifting up their
skinless and uncovered faces towards their dreaded
Judge.
" The sightless eyeball on which he will never pour the day,"
and the yawning hungry jaw which will now never
feed upon the long offered, long rejected tree
of life. The tongue, if such there be, is parched
and dried up in the roofless, moistless palate, and
can express fear and horror only, of all the
many passions for which it once found utterance.
These faces cannot speak, they cannot give forth
even one single cry for the mercy which was for so
many years within their power, but, being uncared
for or despised, is now turned to wrath. Others are
represented as half clothed, but not daring to look
up to the heavenly Judge,—others are rising from
the tomb with clasped hands, and the agony of
despair depicted in their countenances, for they see
that glory is never to be their lot. Truly is it a
picture of " some who rise to shine like the sun in
the kingdom of their Father, and of others whose
portion is shame and everlasting contempt."
The blessed seem all to recognise each other, and
the condemned to be occupied with themselves.
Among many raptured faces are three of a beauty
which even Raphael never excelled, of perfect and
graceful forms, a man and two women, perhaps his
sister and his wife, in which it is hard to say whether
the expression is most touching of human affection,
or of divine and grateful love. It is a tender, holy,
hideously feeling about for their remaining mem-
bers ; others are bony skeletons, lifting up their
skinless and uncovered faces towards their dreaded
Judge.
" The sightless eyeball on which he will never pour the day,"
and the yawning hungry jaw which will now never
feed upon the long offered, long rejected tree
of life. The tongue, if such there be, is parched
and dried up in the roofless, moistless palate, and
can express fear and horror only, of all the
many passions for which it once found utterance.
These faces cannot speak, they cannot give forth
even one single cry for the mercy which was for so
many years within their power, but, being uncared
for or despised, is now turned to wrath. Others are
represented as half clothed, but not daring to look
up to the heavenly Judge,—others are rising from
the tomb with clasped hands, and the agony of
despair depicted in their countenances, for they see
that glory is never to be their lot. Truly is it a
picture of " some who rise to shine like the sun in
the kingdom of their Father, and of others whose
portion is shame and everlasting contempt."
The blessed seem all to recognise each other, and
the condemned to be occupied with themselves.
Among many raptured faces are three of a beauty
which even Raphael never excelled, of perfect and
graceful forms, a man and two women, perhaps his
sister and his wife, in which it is hard to say whether
the expression is most touching of human affection,
or of divine and grateful love. It is a tender, holy,