DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62133#0021
A RELIGIOUS PROCESSION. 5
distance; acres of rich summer grass and flowers stretched
away from our feet. Behind us rose a gentle mound sur-
mounted hy a white marble pavilion, more like something
on the stage than a reality; there was the scent of early
mown grass, the distant hum of the city, the towers and
spires of which, in the distance, rose abruptly into the
evening sky, as if from a sea of wood; there was the near
rush of the water, the gentle voice of a bird ever and anon.
The peace of Nature sunk into our hearts: never had
nature and life and art seemed so holy and beautiful to us,
I believe. We talked of a thousand things; a certain
cloud, a certain barrier which seemed to have existed be-
tween our hearts, melted away; for, after all, our hearts
had been strangers to each other until this night.
On our return home, we still thought and thought what
was to be done; we talked till it wras morning, and by that
time we had arranged a grand ideal plan of work, which,
as far as it went, was good. We determined, if we could
find no really first-rate master, to have models at our own
rooms, and work from them most carefully with our ana-
tomical books and studies beside us; that we would do all
as thoroughly as we could, and help and criticise each
other; that we would work out some designs in this way,
studying the grand works around us, going daily to the
Basilica, to the Glyptothek, to drink in strength, and
inspiration, and knowledge ; that we would draw also from
the antique, and would take our drawings to be corrected
by-, as he had already offered. This was the scheme
of the night.
The first thing, therefore, this morning, was our setting off
boldly to him with our sketches, to ask his advice. The
rest is told.
As we left the studio, I could have fallen upon my
knees, and returned fervent thanks to God, so mysterious
was this fulfilment of my long-cherished poetical dream.
distance; acres of rich summer grass and flowers stretched
away from our feet. Behind us rose a gentle mound sur-
mounted hy a white marble pavilion, more like something
on the stage than a reality; there was the scent of early
mown grass, the distant hum of the city, the towers and
spires of which, in the distance, rose abruptly into the
evening sky, as if from a sea of wood; there was the near
rush of the water, the gentle voice of a bird ever and anon.
The peace of Nature sunk into our hearts: never had
nature and life and art seemed so holy and beautiful to us,
I believe. We talked of a thousand things; a certain
cloud, a certain barrier which seemed to have existed be-
tween our hearts, melted away; for, after all, our hearts
had been strangers to each other until this night.
On our return home, we still thought and thought what
was to be done; we talked till it wras morning, and by that
time we had arranged a grand ideal plan of work, which,
as far as it went, was good. We determined, if we could
find no really first-rate master, to have models at our own
rooms, and work from them most carefully with our ana-
tomical books and studies beside us; that we would do all
as thoroughly as we could, and help and criticise each
other; that we would work out some designs in this way,
studying the grand works around us, going daily to the
Basilica, to the Glyptothek, to drink in strength, and
inspiration, and knowledge ; that we would draw also from
the antique, and would take our drawings to be corrected
by-, as he had already offered. This was the scheme
of the night.
The first thing, therefore, this morning, was our setting off
boldly to him with our sketches, to ask his advice. The
rest is told.
As we left the studio, I could have fallen upon my
knees, and returned fervent thanks to God, so mysterious
was this fulfilment of my long-cherished poetical dream.