 | My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays |  |
74
TO MR. STUART.
UPON SEEING THOSE PORTRAITS WHICH WERE PAINTED BY HIM AT PHILADELPHIA, IN THE BEGINNING OH THE PRESENT CENTURY.
Stuart, thy Portraits speak!—with skill divine
Round the light graces flows the waving line;
Expression in its finest utterance lives,
And a new language to creation gives.
Each varying trait the gifted artist shows,
Wisdom majestic in his bending brows;
The warrior's open front, his eye of fire—
As where the charms of bashful youth retire.
Or patient, plodding, and with wealth content,
The man of commerce counts his cent per cent.
'Tis character that breathes, 'tis soul that twines
Round the rich canvass, traced in living lines.
Speaks in the face, as in the form display'd,
Warms in the tint, and mellows in the shade.
Those touching graces, and that front sublime,
Thy hand shall rescue from the spoil of time.
Hence the fair victim scorns the threat'ning rage,
And stealing step, of slow advancing age.
Still on her cheek the bright carnation blows,
Her lip's deep blush its breathing sweetness shows.
For like the magic wand, thy pencil gives
Its potent charm, and every feature lives.
Round the light graces flows the waving line;
Expression in its finest utterance lives,
And a new language to creation gives.
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Wisdom majestic in his bending brows;
The warrior's open front, his eye of fire—
As where the charms of bashful youth retire.
Or patient, plodding, and with wealth content,
The man of commerce counts his cent per cent.
'Tis character that breathes, 'tis soul that twines
Round the rich canvass, traced in living lines.
Speaks in the face, as in the form display'd,
Warms in the tint, and mellows in the shade.
Those touching graces, and that front sublime,
Thy hand shall rescue from the spoil of time.
Hence the fair victim scorns the threat'ning rage,
And stealing step, of slow advancing age.
Still on her cheek the bright carnation blows,
Her lip's deep blush its breathing sweetness shows.
For like the magic wand, thy pencil gives
Its potent charm, and every feature lives.
Even as the powerful eye's transcendant ray,
Bends its soft glance and bids the heart obey.
Thy fine perceptions flow, by heaven designed,
To reach the thought, and pierce the unfolded mind.
Through its swift course the rapid feeling trace,
And stamp the sovereign passion on the face.
Bends its soft glance and bids the heart obey.
Thy fine perceptions flow, by heaven designed,
To reach the thought, and pierce the unfolded mind.
Through its swift course the rapid feeling trace,
And stamp the sovereign passion on the face.
Even one, by no enlivening grace arrayed,
One, born to linger in affliction's shade,
Hast thou, kind artist, with attraction dressed,
With all that nature in her soul expressed.
One, born to linger in affliction's shade,
Hast thou, kind artist, with attraction dressed,
With all that nature in her soul expressed.
Go on, and may reward thy cares attend;
—The friend of genius must remain thy friend.
Though sordid minds with impious touch presume,
To blend thy laurel with the cypress gloom.
With tears of grief its shining leaves to fade;
Its fair hope withering in the cheerless shade,
The well-earned meed of liberal praise deny,
And on thy talents gaze with dubious eye.
—The friend of genius must remain thy friend.
Though sordid minds with impious touch presume,
To blend thy laurel with the cypress gloom.
With tears of grief its shining leaves to fade;
Its fair hope withering in the cheerless shade,
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And on thy talents gaze with dubious eye.
Genius is sorrow's child—to want allied—
Consoled by glory, and sustained by pride,
To souls sublime her richest wreath she owes,
And loves that fame which kindred worth bestows.
Consoled by glory, and sustained by pride,
To souls sublime her richest wreath she owes,
And loves that fame which kindred worth bestows.
| My Mind and its Thoughts, in Sketches, Fragments, and Essays | |