Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands 1842/The Sleeping Sisters
THE SLEEPING SISTERS,
IN THE LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL.
Hush! hush! tread lightly, 't were not meet
So sweet a dream to break,
Or from that tender, clasping hand
The snowdrop's leaflet shake,
Or drive away the angel smile,
That lights each gentle face,
For waking life would surely fail
To shed so pure a grace.
Hear'st thou their breathing, as they sleep
On pillow lightly prest?
Is aught on earth so calm and deep
As childhood's balmy rest?
A quiet couch those sisters find
Within these hallowed walls,
Where shaded light through storied pane
In solemn tinture falls,
Tracing our Lord's ascending flight
Up to his glorious throne,
Who took the guileless in His arms,
And blest them as His own.
O beautiful!—but when the soul
In Paradise doth walk,
There springeth up no angry blast
To bow the floweret's stalk;
There springeth up no cloud to mar
Affection pure and free,
And blessed as this peaceful sleep,
Such may their waking be.
Friday, Oct. 9, 1840.
The sculpture of Chantrey has seldom been more touchingly exhibited than in the two sleeping sisters, the only children of the Rev. Mr. Robinson, formerly a prebendary of Lichfield Cathedral. They are entwined in each other's arms, the youngest holding in her hand a few snowdrops. Their forms are of perfect proportion, and every muscle seems wrapped in deep repose. You touch the pillow, ere you are convinced that it is not downy, and the sweep of the mattress, and the light folds of their graceful drapery, are all admirably chiseled out of a single block of the purest marble. The epitaph is in harmony with the beauty and pathos of the monument.
"Ellen Jane, and Marianna,
Only Children
of the late Rev. William Robinson,
And Ellen Jane, his Wife.
Their affectionate Mother,
In fond remembrance of their heaven-loved innocence,
Consigns their remembrance to this Sanctuary,
In humble gratitude
For the glorious assurance, that
Of such is the Kingdom of God."
This exquisite work of genius is placed under the beautiful eastern window of stained glass, in the south choral aisle, in Lichfield Cathedral. Somewhat similar in its effect on the feelings is a monument in Ashbourne Church, to the only daughter of Sir Brooke Boothby, a child of five years of age. On a low white marble pedestal is a mattress, where the little sufferer reclines, her sweet face expressive both of pain and patience. Her beautiful hands, clasped together, rest near her head. The only drapery is a frock, flowing loosely, and a sash, whose knot is twisted forward, as in the restlessness of disease. You imagine that she has just turned, in the tossings of fever, to seek a cooler spot on her pillow, or an easier position for her wearied form. The inscription is in four languages;—
To Penelope,
Only child of Sir Brooke and Susanna Boothby.
She was in form and intellect most exquisite.
The unfortunate parents confided their all to this frail bark,
And the wreck was total.
I was not in safety; neither had I rest;
Neither was I quiet;
And this trouble came.
The bereaved father was one of the benefactors of Lichfield Cathedral, and a testimony is there recorded to the zeal and generosity with which he obtained for it, in 1802, while travelling in Germany, specimens of the most splendid stained glass, executed in the sixteenth century, illustrating a variety of Scripture subjects, and sufficient to fill seven large windows. This Cathedral, and its monuments seemed in a state of good preservation, and many of its epitaphs were of singular excellence. Among the latter we noticed one to Dr. Samuel Johnson, accompanied by a marble bust of the great man, whose nativity Lichfield is proud to claim.