 | Love-Lore (1895) |  |
THE COUNTERFEIT
If I could fashion Thee in stone,
Fair as thyself, Belovèd One!
Even Phidias were content to see
The world's most beauteous effigy;
And I with gazing on the stone
Should wish myself Pygmalion.
Fair as thyself, Belovèd One!
Even Phidias were content to see
The world's most beauteous effigy;
And I with gazing on the stone
Should wish myself Pygmalion.
Could I upon the canvas paint
Thy likeness, my love's worshipt Saint!
To Raffaele's dreams a grace I'd lend,
And with great Titian contend;
All lesser painters should despair
To express a face so more than fair.
Thy likeness, my love's worshipt Saint!
To Raffaele's dreams a grace I'd lend,
And with great Titian contend;
All lesser painters should despair
To express a face so more than fair.
O might I borrow Sidney's quill,
Or Jonson's rare poetic skill,
And trace thy loveliness of mind
In words of heart, till thine inclined
To thank the poet at thy feet,—
What song could be so honey-sweet?
Or Jonson's rare poetic skill,
219
In words of heart, till thine inclined
To thank the poet at thy feet,—
What song could be so honey-sweet?
But in thy gloriousness of face,
And in thy form's unstudied grace,
I find such charms I must despair
To fashion thy resemblance fair;
And sculpture, painting, poesy,
Are weak for counterfeiting Thee.
And in thy form's unstudied grace,
I find such charms I must despair
To fashion thy resemblance fair;
And sculpture, painting, poesy,
Are weak for counterfeiting Thee.
| Love-Lore (1895) | |