 | Poems and prose writings |  |
“THE CHANTING CHERUBS.”
This group, executed by H. Greenough, for J. F. Cooper, give you a
feeling of unmingled happiness as soon as you cast your eyes upon them.
The two little creatures are themselves instinct with it; and no sadness
creeps over your spirit, as it does when you look upon a child; for then comes
in the thought of frailty; and you know that when the sun opens that bud,
the dew of its youth will dry up, and that it will fade soon, and all its freshness
and odour be lost. But these little beings seem to have lighted here
from a better world, where happiness is as lasting as it is pure. And so busy
and pleased are they in their song of praise, as not at all to heed us poor
creatures, who stand gazing on them — blessed spirits!
The execution of this group is not inferior to the conception, and Mr.
Greenough shows himself to be a close student of nature, and to have a
hand as true as his eye. What flesh, too! you are almost persuaded that it
will yield to your touch. The action, also, and the dependent attitude of
the younger Cherub is beautifully contrasted with the more erect posture and
the repose of the older figure. Not the least pleasing thought connected with
this work of art, is, that while so many men of genius disgrace themselves
by envyings and detraction, this group was executed by the first American
Sculptor, for one who, with C. B. Brown, stands at the head of American
Novelists.
It is a sin against God, and a base vice, to envy another his excellence.
If man would remember and feel the words, It is not of yourselves: it is the
gift of God, he would be humble, and able to rejoice in another's well doing.
Whence came ye, Cherubs? from the moon?
Or from a shining star?
Ye, sure, are sent, a blessed boon,
From kinder worlds afar;
For while I look, my heart is all delight:
Earth has no creatures half so pure and bright.
From moon, nor star, we hither flew;
The moon doth wane away;
The stars — they pale at morning dew:
We're children of the day;
Nor change, nor night, was ever ours to bear;
Eternal light, and love, and joy, we share.
III.
Then, sons of light, from Heaven above,
Some blessed news ye bring.
Come ye to chant eternal love,
And tell how angels sing,
And in your breathing, conscious forms to show
How purer forms above, live, breathe, and glow?
IV.
Our parent is a human mind;
His winged thoughts are we;
To sun, nor stars, are we confined:
We pierce the deepest sea.
Moved by a Brother's call, our Father bade
Us light on earth: and here our flight is stayed.
| Poems and prose writings | |