University of Virginia Library


22

On a Drawing of Lionardo in the Academy at Venice.

I

O thou that lookest forth with that strange smile
Ever to thine and our great master dear,
Which, whether born of simpleness or guile,
Still brings some sense of vague mistrust and fear,
A smile which seems to fade as we draw near,
Tell us from what far country dost thou come,
For truly this our earth is not thy home?

II

From what unknown far country not of earth
What message dost thou bring us from the hand
Of him who, while he lived here, gave thee birth,
Who now dwells ever in the charmed land,
Whence he could draw, like Prosper, with his wand,
Thee and thy brethren, an enchanted quire,
To grieve our hearts with unfulfill'd desire?

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III

O eyes divinely fresh in light of youth!
O lovely childish head of doubtful sex!
O guide perplexing on the road of truth!—
Then, is thy mission only to perplex?
Surely thy maker made thee not to vex
Our souls? No, in those tresses crowned and curled
He wove and set the riddle of the world.

IV

O virginal soft mouth of girl or boy,
Mysterious lips which praise not nor reprove,
Will you not say one word to bring us joy?
Will you not speak, and tell us, ‘I am Love’?
Thy sweet lips move not, though they seem to move.
And so, perchance, 'tis best, for, had they breath,
Who knows they might not answer, ‘I am Death’?