Daily American telegraph. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1851-1852, 1852-02-20
AMERICAN TELEGRAPH.
THoRvALDsEN's FIRST LOVE.

THORvALDsEN's FIRST LOVE.
Some ffty-fve years ago, a young woman of
prepossessing appearance was seated in small
back room of house in Copenhagen weeping
bitterly. In her lap lay few trinkets and
other small articles, evidently keepsakes which
she had received from time 70 time. She took
up one after the other, and turned hem over
and over; but she could scarcely distinguish
them through her binding tears. Then she
buried her face in her hands, and rocked to
and fro in agony. r..
"Oh!" moaned She" and is it this? All
my dreams of happiness are yanished-all my
hopes are dead He will even 90 without
bidding me farewell All, Hemlin that
have lived to see this bitter day! Lopet vere
Gud!O
AT this moment hasty tap at the door was
followed by the entrance of the object Of her
grief. He was a young man about twenty-five
years OF aye, hisperson middle-sized and strong
ly built, his features massive. regular, attract
ive--his long hair faxen, his eye blue. This
was Bertel Thorvaldsen--a 'nsrnis which has.
since then sounded throughout the world, as
that Of the most illustrious sculptor of modern
times. His step was firm and quick, his eyes
bright, and his features glowing as he entered
the room: but when he beheld the attitude of
the weeping female, shade passed over his
countenance, as he gently walked up to her,
and laying his hand on her shoulder, murmur-
ed Amalie!"
'Bertel u answered smothered voice
The young Dane drew chair to her side,
and silently took her tear-bedewed hands.
"Amale" said he, after pause broken only
by her quivering sobs II am come to bid thee
farewell. | go in the morning"
She ceased weeping raised her face, and re-
leasing her hands, pushed back her dishevelled
hair. Then she wiped her eyes, and gazed on
him in way that made his own droop "Ber-
TEL" said she, in a solemn tone, but void of all
reproach, "Bertel, why did you win my young
heart why did you lead me to hope that
should become the wife of your bosom?"
"I-I always meant it; | mean it now"
She shook her head mournfully, and taking
up the trinkets continued, "Do you remember
what you said when you gave me this-and
this-and this?n
"What would you have, Amalie? l said
loved you; love you still-but"-
"But you love ambition, fame, the praise Of
men, far BETTER" added she. bitterly.
Thorvaldsen started, and his features flush
ayes, you will leave gamle Danmark-you
er, whose only hope and only earthly Joy is in
you-you will leave me- and all who love the
sound of your footsteps, and 60 to the distant
land, and forget us all !"
Min Pige! you are cruel and unjust. |
shall come back to my old father and mother
come back to thee, and we shall be happy
again"
"Never, Bertel never! When once you
have gone, there is no more happiness for US
Ia heaven we may all meet again on earth
never o no. never more will you see in this
lie either your parents or your poor broken
hearted Amalie !"-and again her sobs burst
forth.
Thorvaldsen abruptly rose from his chair
and paced the room in agitation. He was
much distressed, and once or twice he glanced
at Amalie with evident hesitation. His past
life, the pleasures of his youth, the endeared
scenes and friends of his childhood, the affec-
tion of Amaie, the anguish of his parents at
the approaching separation, all vividly passed
in review, and whispered to him to stay and
be happy in the city of his birth. But vision
of Rome rose also and beckoned him thither
to earn renown, wealth, and earthly immortali.
ty. The pride of conscious genius swelled his
soul, and he felt that the die was cast forever
He reseated himself by the side of Amale
and once more took her hand. She looked up
and in one glance read his inmost thoughts
=" Co." said She go and fulfil your destiny
Gods will be done! You will became a great
man-you will be the companion of princes
and of kings, and your name will extend the
fame of your country to the uttermost parts of
the earth. i see it all : and let my selfish love
perish Only promise this; when you are
hereafter in the full blaze Of your triumph,
do tIa h,ch lnya
ly danes, who are thronging around and drop
one tear to the memory of the lowly Danish
girl who loved you better than herself Bertel,
fdreweH!'
The next day Thorvaldsen quilted Copenha-
gen for Rome, where he resided nearly the
whole remainder of his long life, and more
than realized his own widest aspirations OF
fame. But the prophecy of poor Amalie was
literally fulflled-he never more behcld his
parents, nor her, his first love
Nearly half century had elapsed, and
again the scene was Copenhagen. The streets
were densely crowded with eager, sorrowing
spectators, and every window of every house
was filed with sadly-expectant faces. At length
the cry, "They come!" was echoed from
group to group, and the crowd swayed to and
fro, under the sympathetic swell of one COM
mon emotion.
A withered old woman was seated at the
upper window of n house, and when the cry
was taken up she raised her wrinkled coun-
tenance, and passed her hands over her eyes, as
though to clear away the mist of more than
seventy winters. An immense procession drew
nigh. Appropriate military music preceded a
corpse being conveyed to its last earthly abb
ding place The King of the land, the royal
family, the nobility, the clergy, the learned,
the brave, the gifted, the removed, walked after
it. The banners Of mourning were waved, the
trnmpets walled, and ten thousand sobs broke
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