THE DEFORMED ARTIST.

The twilight o'er Italia's sky Had wove a shadowy veil, And one by one the solemn stars Looked forth serene and pale; As quickly the waning light Through a high casement stole, And fell on one with silver hair, Who shrived a passing soul. No costly pomp and luxury Relieved that chamber's gloom, But glowing forms, by limner's art Created, thronged the room: And as the low winds echoed far The bell for evening prayer, The dying painter's earnest tones Fell on the languid air. "The spectral form of Death is nigh, The thread of Life is spun, Ave Maria! I have looked Upon my latest sun. And yet 'tis not with pale disease This frame is worn away, Nor yet—nor yet with length of years— A child but yesterday" "I found within my father's hall No fervent love to claim— The curse that marked me from my birth Devoted me to shame. I saw upon my brother's brow Angelic beauty lay, The mirror gave me back a form That thrilled me with dismay." "And soon I learned to shrink from all, The lowly and the high; To see but scorn on every lip, Contempt in every eye. And for a time e'en Nature's smile A bitter mockery wore, For beauty stamped each living thing The wide creation o'er;" "And I alone was cursed and loathed; 'Twas in a garden bower I knelt one eve, and scalding tears Fell fast on many a flower; And as I rose I marked with awe And agonizing grief, A frail mimosa at my feet Fold close each fragile leaf." "Alas! how dark my lot if thus A plant could shrink from me; But when I looked again I marked That from the honey-bee, The falling leaf, the bird's gay wing, It shrunk with pain and fear, A kindred presence I had found, Life waxed sublimely clear." "I climbed the lofty mountain height And communed with the skies, And felt within my grateful heart Strange aspirations rise. Oh! what was this humanity When every beaming star Was filled with lucid intellect, Congenial, though afar." "I mused beneath the avalanche, And traced the sparkling stream, Till Nature's face became to me A passion and a dream:" Then thirsting for a higher lore I left my childhood's home, And stayed not till I gazed upon The hills of fallen Rome. "I stood amid the forms of light, Seraphic and divine, The painter's wand had summoned from The dim Ideal's shrine; And felt within my fevered soul Ambition's wasting fire, And seized the pencil with a vague And passionate desire" "To shadow forth, with lineaments Of earth, the phantom throng That swept before my sight in thought, And lived in storied song. Vain, vain the dream—as well might I Aspire to build a star, Or pile the gorgeous sunset clouds That glitter from afar." "The threads of life have worn away, Discordantly they thrill, But soon the sounding chords will be Forever mute and still. And in the spirit-land that lies Beyond, so calm and gray, I shall aspire with truer aim— Ave Maria! pray!"