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110
AN UNFINISHED PORTRAIT
How shines the gold amid the brown
Of heavy tresses tumbling down,
In Art's despite!
How Nature blends her red and white!
Of heavy tresses tumbling down,
In Art's despite!
How Nature blends her red and white!
Ah, happy painter, it is thine
That ‘sweet disorder’ to confine:
If thou shouldst order it aright,
Ah, what delight!
That ‘sweet disorder’ to confine:
If thou shouldst order it aright,
Ah, what delight!
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