 | Adrian, the neophyte |  |
ADRIAN, THE NEOPHYTE.
BY GEORGE LIPPARD, ESQ., AUTHOR OF “HERBERT TRACY,” ETC.
There was a Poet whose untimely tomb
No human hands with pious reverence rear'd.
— — No mourning maiden deck'd
With weeping flowers or votive cypress wreath,
The lone couch of his everlasting sleep;
Gentle, and brave and generous, no lorn bard
Breath'd over his dark fate one melodious sigh;
He lived, he died— —
No human hands with pious reverence rear'd.
— — No mourning maiden deck'd
With weeping flowers or votive cypress wreath,
The lone couch of his everlasting sleep;
Gentle, and brave and generous, no lorn bard
Breath'd over his dark fate one melodious sigh;
He lived, he died— —
(The Nameless One.)
In the gallery of the monastery of St. Benedict, in the City of Florence the Fair, the eye of the traveller
is fixed in mute interest and wonder, upon the strange contrast presented by four ancient
paintings. They are embodied in a legend of wild and startling mystery, for it is said—
(Adventures in Italy.)
| Adrian, the neophyte | |