The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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LINES ON SEEING A PICTURE.
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
192
LINES ON SEEING A PICTURE.
I saw two sisters,
The semblance of two lovely human fays,
Which the bold hand of Genius had thrown
Upon the canvas in a happy hour.
On one ten springs had shed their light and bloom,
And seven had waked the other into joy.
Like tendrils on one parent stem, they twined
Their snowy arms around each other's neck,
In gentle dalliance, while their silken locks,
Like waves of amber, on their shoulders fell
In beautiful luxuriance. Some strange thing
Had made them glad, for they were laughing both.
Both faces had a merry look, but each
In mirth's expression differed from the other:
The elder sister's joy seemed uncontrolled,—
For her wild soul sent out its silvery laugh,
Like a full fountain bubbling o'er in music:
The younger elf, with arch and sidelong glance,
And dimpled cheek, was laughing to herself;
Her gladness was not boisterous, but spoke
Mutely but mirthfully in her bright eye,
Her lifted finger, and her cherry lip,
Like some clear well, which sounds not though it shine.
The semblance of two lovely human fays,
Which the bold hand of Genius had thrown
Upon the canvas in a happy hour.
On one ten springs had shed their light and bloom,
And seven had waked the other into joy.
Like tendrils on one parent stem, they twined
Their snowy arms around each other's neck,
In gentle dalliance, while their silken locks,
Like waves of amber, on their shoulders fell
In beautiful luxuriance. Some strange thing
Had made them glad, for they were laughing both.
Both faces had a merry look, but each
In mirth's expression differed from the other:
The elder sister's joy seemed uncontrolled,—
For her wild soul sent out its silvery laugh,
Like a full fountain bubbling o'er in music:
The younger elf, with arch and sidelong glance,
And dimpled cheek, was laughing to herself;
Her gladness was not boisterous, but spoke
Mutely but mirthfully in her bright eye,
Her lifted finger, and her cherry lip,
Like some clear well, which sounds not though it shine.
I saw the father of these little dames
Stand with his arms enfolded on his breast,
Gazing on these his blessed ones, and long,
With earnest scrutiny and inward pride—
(A holy pride, which fathers only feel!)—
Scan every single feature, while his soul
Seemed to absorb their every line and hue.
After a time, I saw his restless lip
Tremble with deep emotion, and a tear
Drop as a witness of the painter's power.
That tear—that one most sweet and eloquent tear—
Reminded me of home and home's affections,—
Of lips which sent their blessings for my weal,
Though far away—of eyes which looked and wept,—
Of hearts which sighed, and ached for my return;
And as I thought, I melted like a child!
Stand with his arms enfolded on his breast,
193
With earnest scrutiny and inward pride—
(A holy pride, which fathers only feel!)—
Scan every single feature, while his soul
Seemed to absorb their every line and hue.
After a time, I saw his restless lip
Tremble with deep emotion, and a tear
Drop as a witness of the painter's power.
That tear—that one most sweet and eloquent tear—
Reminded me of home and home's affections,—
Of lips which sent their blessings for my weal,
Though far away—of eyes which looked and wept,—
Of hearts which sighed, and ached for my return;
And as I thought, I melted like a child!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |