Art and Love

He faced his canvas ( as a seer whose ken

Pierces the crust of this existence through )

And smiled beyond on that his genius knew

Ere mated with his being. Conscious then

Of his high theme alone, he smiled again

Straight back upon himself in many a hue

And tint, and light and shade, which slowly grew

Enfeatured of a fair girl's face, as when

First time she smiles for love's sake with no fear.

So wrought he, witless that behind him leant

A woman, with old features, dim and sear,

And glamoured eyes that felt the brimming tear,

And with a voice, like some sad instrument,

That sighing said, “I'm dead there; love me here!”