DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62133#0074
58
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH.
waving hands and solemn music, their united voices pealed
forth words of blessings—“ Peace on earth and good will
toward men;” they sang of God’s infinite love in sending
among men His Blessed Son, and their voices rose towards
heaven and echoed among the hills. And whilst they thus
sang, your hearts were strangely touched, and your eyes
wandered away from those singular peasant-angels, and their
peasant audience, up to the deep, cloudless blue sky above
their heads; you heard the rustle of green trees around
you, and caught glimpses of mountains, and all seemed a
strange, fantastical, poetical dream.
But now the chorus retired, and the curtain slowly rose.
There is a tread of feet, a hum of voices; a crowd ap-
proaches, children shout, wave palm-branches, and scatter
flowers. In the centre of the multitude on the stage,
riding upon an ass, sits a majestic figure clothed in a long
violet-coloured robe, the heavy folds of a crimson mantle
falling around him. His hands are laid across his breast;
his face is meekly raised towards heaven with an adoring
love. Behind, solemnly follows a group of grave men with
staves in their hands and ample drapery sweeping the
ground. You recognise the disciple John in a handsome,
almost feminine youth, clothed in green and scarlet robes,
and with flowing locks; and there is Peter, with his eager
countenance; and that man with the brooding look, and
wrapt in a flame-coloured mantle,—that must be Judas !
The children shout and wave their palm-branches, and the
procession moves on, and that fatal triumphal entry is made
into Jerusalem.
Again appears that tall majestic figure in his violet robe :
his features are fit up with a holy indignation; a scourge
is in his hand; he overturns the tables of the money-
changers, and drives before him a craven avaricious crowd.
An excited assembly of aged men, with long and venerable
beards falling on their breasts, their features inflamed with
AN ART-STUDENT IN MUNICH.
waving hands and solemn music, their united voices pealed
forth words of blessings—“ Peace on earth and good will
toward men;” they sang of God’s infinite love in sending
among men His Blessed Son, and their voices rose towards
heaven and echoed among the hills. And whilst they thus
sang, your hearts were strangely touched, and your eyes
wandered away from those singular peasant-angels, and their
peasant audience, up to the deep, cloudless blue sky above
their heads; you heard the rustle of green trees around
you, and caught glimpses of mountains, and all seemed a
strange, fantastical, poetical dream.
But now the chorus retired, and the curtain slowly rose.
There is a tread of feet, a hum of voices; a crowd ap-
proaches, children shout, wave palm-branches, and scatter
flowers. In the centre of the multitude on the stage,
riding upon an ass, sits a majestic figure clothed in a long
violet-coloured robe, the heavy folds of a crimson mantle
falling around him. His hands are laid across his breast;
his face is meekly raised towards heaven with an adoring
love. Behind, solemnly follows a group of grave men with
staves in their hands and ample drapery sweeping the
ground. You recognise the disciple John in a handsome,
almost feminine youth, clothed in green and scarlet robes,
and with flowing locks; and there is Peter, with his eager
countenance; and that man with the brooding look, and
wrapt in a flame-coloured mantle,—that must be Judas !
The children shout and wave their palm-branches, and the
procession moves on, and that fatal triumphal entry is made
into Jerusalem.
Again appears that tall majestic figure in his violet robe :
his features are fit up with a holy indignation; a scourge
is in his hand; he overturns the tables of the money-
changers, and drives before him a craven avaricious crowd.
An excited assembly of aged men, with long and venerable
beards falling on their breasts, their features inflamed with