AN ARTIST OF THE BEAUTIFUL.

Haunted of Beauty, like the marvellous youth

Who sang Saint Agnes’ Eve! How passing fair

Her shapes took color in thy homestead air!

How on thy canvas even her dreams were truth!

Magician! who from commonest elements

Called up divine ideals, clothed upon

By mystic lights soft blending into one

Womanly grace and child-like innocence.

Teacher I thy lesson was not given in vain.

Beauty is goodness; ugliness is sin;

Art's place is sacred: nothing foul therein

May crawl or tread with bestial feet profane.

If rightly choosing is the painter's test,

Thy choice, O master, ever was the best.