Explore "Awakening" by Maud Diver on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"My heart in me was held at restless rest, Presageful of some prize beyond its quest, Prophetic still with promise, fain to find the best. " -- SWINBOURNE.
Martino's approval of the _houri_ and something more dated from his first sight of Nevil's sketch. Constrained by that something, he had wrought, in the sea-piece that was his wedding-gift, a symbolic portrayal of his own soul, untamed and untameable as the waters that cover the earth. All wind-driven wave and cloud it was; save for one down-sweeping sword of radiance that struck a path of gold through the turmoil: the whole smitten into life by the illusion of light and movement that was fast gaining him recognition as one of the master-painters of his time. This much, at least, of himself should be hers: the quintessence of his nature purged from the dross. For outside his art, and his touch of heroic fortitude, Martino's code of morals did not bear critical inspection.