Emerald and bright carbuncle.
Clear and pure he work'd the ether
As with lapis-lazuli,
And the mountains in the distance
Stretching blue and far away--
All so well, that I, in rapture
At this second revelation,
Turn'd to gaze upon the painter
From the picture which he drew.

"Have I not," he said, "convinced thee
That I know the painter's secret?
Yet the greatest is to come."

Then he drew with gentle finger,
Still more delicately pointed,
In the wood, about its margin,
Where the sun within the water
Glanced as from the clearest mirror,
Such a maiden's form!
Perfect shape in perfect raiment,
Fair young cheeks 'neath glossy ringlets,
And the cheeks were of the colour
Of the finger whence they came.

"Child," I cried, "what wond'rous master
In his school of art hath form'd thee,
That so deftly and so truly,
From the sketch unto the burnish,
Thou hast finish'd such a gem?"

As I spoke, a breeze arising
Stirr'd the tree-tops in the picture,
Ruffled every pool of water,
Waved the garments of the maiden;
And, what more than all amazed me,
Her small feet took motion also,
And she came towards the station
Where I sat beside the boy.

So, when every thing was moving,
Leaves and water, flowers and raiment,
And the footsteps of the darling--
Think you I remain'd as lifeless
As the rock on which I rested?
No, I trow--not I!

This is as perfect a landscape as one of Berghem's sunniest.

An artist is, to our mind, one of the happiest creatures in God's
creation. Now that the race of wandering minstrels has passed away, your
painter is the only free joyous denizen of the earth, who can give way
to his natural impulses without fear of reproach, and who can indulge
his enthusiasm for the bright and beautiful to the utmost. He has his
troubles, no doubt; for he is ambitious, and too often he is poor; but
it is something to pursue ambition along the natural path with unwarped
energies, and ardent and sincere devotion. As to poverty, that is a
fault that must daily mend, if he is only true to himself. In a few
years, the foot-sore wanderer of the Alps, with little more worldly
goods than the wallet and sketch-book he carries, will be the royal
academician, the Rubens or the Reynolds of his day, with the most
_recherche_ studio in London, and more