Thy rest is won: O loyal, brave,
Wise soul, thy spirit is not dead—
Thy wing’d words far and wide have fled,
Undying, they shall find no grave.
CHAPTER V
FIRST VISIT TO ITALY
“After Rossetti’s death, I wrote,” William Sharp has related, “to the commission of Messrs. Macmillan, a record of his achievements in the two arts of literature and poetry, my first and of course immature attempt at a book of prose. I had also written a book of poems, which, however, did not attract much attention, though it had the honour of a long and flattering review in the Athenæum. Happily, it seems to have fallen into the hands of the editor of Harper’s Magazine, for some time afterward I received a letter from him asking me to let him see any poems I had by me. I sent him all I had and the matter passed from my mind. Months went by, and I remember how, one day, I had almost reached my last penny. In fact, my only possession of any value was a revolver, the gift of a friend. That night I made up my mind to enlist next morning. When I got up on the following morning there were two letters for me. The usual thing, I said to myself, notice of ‘declined with thanks.’ I shoved them into my pocket. A little later in the day, however, recollection impelled me to open one of the letters. It was from the editor of Harper’s, enclosing a cheque for forty pounds for my few Transcripts from Nature, little six-line poems, to be illustrated by Mr. Alfred Parsons, A.R.A. That money kept me going for a little time. Still it was a struggle, and I had nearly reached the end of my resources when one day I came across the other letter I had received that morning. I opened and found it to be from a, to me, unknown friend of one who had known my grandfather. He had heard from Sir Noel Paton that I was inclined to the study of literature and art. He therefore enclosed a cheque for two hundred pounds, which I was to spend in going to Italy to pursue my artistic studies. I was, of course, delighted with the windfall, so delighted, indeed, that I went the length of framing the cheque and setting it up in my lodgings. I tried to get my landlord to advance me the not very ambitious loan of a needed sovereign on the spot, but he only shook his head knowingly, as if he suspected something. However, at last, he risked a pound, and I think I spent most of it that afternoon in taking the landlady and her family to the pantomime.
WILLIAM SHARP
From a photograph taken in Rome in 1883