BROKEN HEARTED WOMAN Cries on Floor MARY HOWITT Poem ~ 1845 Art Print Engraving

Description: THE LADY'S SORROW Artist: Painted by F. W. Topham ____________ Engraver: Engraved by G. Presbury Note: the title in the table above is printed below the engraving CLICK HERE TO SEE MORE 18th CENTURY ANTIQUE PRINTS LIKE THIS ONE!! THIS PRINT IS FROM THE EARLY 1840s & IS NOT A MODERN REPRODUCTION IN ANY WAY! FROM THE ORIGINAL DESCRIPTION: THE LADY'S SORROW. BY MARY HOWITT. 'Twas evening, and the room was all a-light With well-dried Christmas fagots Mazing bright ; Within were warmth, and- curtained, cushioned ease, Without, a wintry tempest shook the trees, Roared in the broad high chimneys, and the raiu Beat in wild splashes on the window-pane ; Yet, little heeding of the storm, we sate, The priest's good wife and I, till it grew late, Yet did our easy talk its colouring take From the wild, driving tempest, and we spake Of bleeding, broken hearts, and human woe, But most of griefs that suffering women know. At length, said she, the priest's good wife, " I'll tell A sad and strange adventure that befell, Long time ago, in which we bore a part— A sad true history of a broken heart. " 'Twas on a night like this, just so the rain Drove on the windows, and the trees did strain Against the tempest. We were dwelling then In a lone district, among fishermen And peasant people, that lay scattered wide Along the shore, or on the bare hill-side ; Upon a night like this of gusty weather, I and my husband sate at home together, Blessing ourselves that from the fire-warmed hearth No needful pastoral duty called him forth ; And, as our custom was, we gave the hour, Ere the day closed with prayer, to music's power. The time, the feeling I remember well, My voice half silenced by the tempest's swell, And, in the pauses of the storm, the roar Of booming waters on the rocky shore ; Even then, through rains that as a deluge poured, When not a hardy peasant was abroad, By lonesome ways a chariot drove along, Drawn by four horses, urged by spur and thong. Amazed, we heard the sound of wheels draw near, And at our threshold check their swift career ; But the next moment were still more amazed, As on a lofty-statured man we gazed, Who entered at the door, nor reverence made, Nor customary dues of greeting paid : Dark were his features, black his curled moustache, A short, furred cloak he wore, and silken sash, In which were pistols and a dagger placed ; His air was hurried, and he spoke with haste, As one who has unpleasant work to do, Favour would seek, and yet disdains to sue, And makes his wishes' will in accents few. " ' Ye must,' he said, ' beneath your roof receive A guest who will but little trouble give. A holy man, whose office is to bless, At a soul's hour of parting, can no less !' " Such were his words ; but in that tone severe That makes the adverse spirit quake with fear. And the next moment, through the open door, A closely -muffled female form he bore, Dead as it seemed to me, for like dull clay Heavy and passive, in his arms she lay ; And through my heart quick indignation ran, For I believed the stern imperious man To be her murderer ; and my husband too Had the same thought, and kept him still in view, To mark with jealous eye what he would do. " He laid her on a couch, and next undid The close-tied veil that her pale features hid, And the rich features, of divinest mould, We saw, yet pallid, with closed eyes, and cold : Yet still she lived—for she was young, and sooth The mightiest griefs but slowly kill in youth. " ' Beneath this roof she must abide !' again Spake the proud man, ' must privily remain ; But what her name, or what her crime, or woe, I neither tell, nor must ye seek to know ; But here she must abide, must gather hence, Patience, submission, humble penitence ! If she should die, let decent rites be paid : But let her 'neath a silent stone be laid ; If she should live—at the appointed hour They will remove her hence who have the power : And gold, that buyeth all things, good and ill, Ye shall not lack : these words unfold my will, Which, as you hold a common faith, fulfil !' " I know not how it was, a haughty sway Was in the man—we could not disobey ; Imposing was his presence, yet we stood Although offended much, at once subdued ; Yet more for that pale youthful lady's sake, Who opened her dim eyes, and faintly spake, In tones that pierced my heart, ' Oh, let me stay,— By Him who died upon the cross, I pray Ye, cast me not from your kind hearts away !' We yielded, for her sake to us unknown : And the next moment that harsh man was gone ; Yet left he gold behind, a richer store Than we, at once, had ever seen before. " Who was the lady, what her crime or woe, Only by slow degrees we came to know ; Only when death a safer home had given, At Jesus' feet, with Magdalenes in heaven. 96 THE PEOPLE'S GALLERY OP ENGRAVINGS. " After the night she entered first our door Ensued a wasting sickness, long and sore ; And night and day we tended her, and she Was gentle as submissive infancy : It was a sickness more of mind than frame, Which had no medicine ; yet a calmness came, That was like restoration, and she strove, By seeming cheerful, to reward our love ; But that vain show of calm and cheerful hours Was but like Etna's bosom wreathed in flowers. A deadly woe was ever at her heart ; A chilling fear, that never would depart ; A deadly pang of misery and shame ; A dread that like a death-knell shook her frame. Hence, when she trimmed my flowers, or seemed to cheat With some light books of fancy, time's dull feet, It was but seeming, and her thoughts would go On to the brink of that unfathomed woe, And in a stony misery, all amazed, As one that on the fabled gorgon gazed, With clenched hands and eyeballs fixed, she sate , And ever through the day, early or late, If chance an unaccustomed step drew nigh, Or even a shadow passed the window by, Her lips grew deadly white, and quick her breath, And a strong spasm followed, like to death. " Still she lived on, if life that can be thought, Of which each hour with fear and woe is fraught. Oh, had her sin been yet of darker stain, She bore its penance o'er and o'er again. And He who secret misery sees and hears, In his great reckoning, will accept her tears ! Yet she died not : and they who had the power, As had been threatened, at the appointed hour, Came to remove her from us. Even then Was given to her, her long-lost peace again ; Peace in the grave, where beauty sheds no tear, Where vulture-beaked remorse is not, nor fear, The fanged serpent, gnaweth at the heart ! O'er her we mourned ; and in the greenest part Of that remote church-yard her grave was made, Beneath the spreading lime-tree's verdant shade ; And at her head, and at her feet, a stone : Yet name, nor date, nor epitaph was none, Saving the text to mourniug sinners dear, Of angels' joy in the repentant tear I" BIOGRAPHY OF ARTIST: Francis William Topham was a painter of landscapes and scenes of the rural life, been born in Leeds, city of the north of England, the 13 of April of 1808, Topham wanted to be a painter from very early age. At 21 years of age, Topham was transferred to London where he worked like recorder of heraldicos for several years, then he left this work to dedicate himself entirely to the watercolor and the oil. Topham was member of a society of artists (the Langham Sketching Club) founded on 1823, who met in the Gray's Inn Lane for the study of models brought of the street. In 1843, he was a member of the New Society of Watercolorists. His main watercolors were exhibited from 1847 in the Old Society of Watercolorists, of which he was chosen to be a member in 1848. Topham visited Ireland, Scotland, Italy and Spain. His first visit to Spain took place in 1852 - 1853 and exhibited works such as gypsy Festival near Granada (1854) and Spanish Comadreo (1859). After his second visit to Ireland (first it was in 1843, in company of Frederick Goodall, brother of Edward Angelo), Topham made another visit to Spain in 1866, in company of William Wood Deane (1825 - 1873). Its last visit to Spain took place at the end of 1876, having passed away in Cordova the 31 of March of 1877, at the age of 69 age. Between 1832 and 1877 he exhibited a total of 170 works. PRINT DATE: This engraving was printed in the 1840s; it is not a modern reproduction in any way. PRINT SIZE: Overall print size is 7 1/2 inches by 10 inches including white borders, actual scene is 3 1/4 inches by 5 1/4 inches. PRINT CONDITION: Condition is excellent. Bright and clean. Blank on reverse. Paper is quality woven rag stock. SHIPPING: Buyer to pay shipping, domestic orders receives priority mail, international orders receive regular mail unless otherwise asked for. We take a variety of payment options, more payment details will be in our email after auction close. We pack properly to protect your item! Please note: the terms used in our auctions for engraving, heliogravure, lithograph, print, plate, photogravure etc. are ALL prints on paper, NOT blocks of steel or wood. "ENGRAVINGS", the term commonly used for these paper prints, were the most common method in the 1700s and 1800s for illustrating old books, and these paper prints or "engravings" were inserted into the book with a tissue guard frontis, usually on much thicker quality rag stock paper, although many were also printed and issued as loose stand alone prints. So this auction is for an antique paper print(s), probably from an old book, of very high quality and usually on very thick rag stock paper. EXTREMELY RARE TO FIND IN THIS EXCELLENT CONDITION!

Price: 6.39 USD

Location: New Providence, New Jersey

End Time: 2025-01-28T16:14:54.000Z

Shipping Cost: 7.95 USD