No, it was no dream; a gentle, living form stood before him who had
sorrowed for his only child nearly twenty long years, and was devoutly
regarding those inanimate features to which his soul had clung, as if it
were of life; and his eye now wandered from the animate to the
inanimate,--the beauteous countenance of the Madonna. It was not unlike
that of the Sea-flower; the features were the same. Regaining his
composure, the artist proceeded, in a peculiarly mellow tone of voice--
"Dear lady, you will pardon my seemingly ill-mannered reception of you,
I know, when you have heard what has never yet passed my lips to any
mortal! Near twenty years have expired since I left my cherished home,
on the other side of the Atlantic, and came to America. I met with
sorrow at an early age; the young wife of my choice was taken from me,
and I should have been overwhelmed with grief, had not the precious boon
left to me by her, claimed my heart-felt love; the beautiful babe smiled
upon me, and I felt rebuked in spirit that I should thus murmur at God's
will, when in his loving kindness he had spared to me this, her very
likeness, and I came to smile again.
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