 | The complete poetical works of Oliver Wendell Holmes |  |
TO THE PORTRAIT OF “A GENTLEMAN”
IN THE ATHENÆUM GALLERY
[_]
[The companion poem, To the Portrait of “A Lady,” was retained by Dr. Holmes in his group, Earlier Poems.]
It may be so,—perhaps thou hast
A warm and loving heart;
I will not blame thee for thy face,
Poor devil as thou art.
A warm and loving heart;
I will not blame thee for thy face,
Poor devil as thou art.
That thing thou fondly deem'st a nose,
Unsightly though it be,—
In spite of all the cold world's scorn,
It may be much to thee.
Unsightly though it be,—
In spite of all the cold world's scorn,
It may be much to thee.
Those eyes,—among thine elder friends
Perhaps they pass for blue,—
No matter,—if a man can see,
What more have eyes to do?
Perhaps they pass for blue,—
No matter,—if a man can see,
What more have eyes to do?
Thy mouth,—that fissure in thy face,
By something like a chin,—
May be a very useful place
To put thy victual in.
By something like a chin,—
May be a very useful place
To put thy victual in.
I know thou hast a wife at home,
I know thou hast a child,
By that subdued, domestic smile
Upon thy features mild.
I know thou hast a child,
By that subdued, domestic smile
Upon thy features mild.
That wife sits fearless by thy side,
That cherub on thy knee;
They do not shudder at thy looks,
They do not shrink from thee.
That cherub on thy knee;
They do not shudder at thy looks,
They do not shrink from thee.
Above thy mantle is a hook,—
A portrait once was there;
It was thine only ornament,—
Alas! that hook is bare.
A portrait once was there;
It was thine only ornament,—
Alas! that hook is bare.
She begged thee not to let it go,
She begged thee all in vain;
She wept,—and breathed a trembling prayer
To meet it safe again.
She begged thee all in vain;
She wept,—and breathed a trembling prayer
To meet it safe again.
It was a bitter sight to see
That picture torn away;
It was a solemn thought to think
What all her friends would say!
That picture torn away;
It was a solemn thought to think
What all her friends would say!
And often in her calmer hours,
And in her happy dreams,
Upon its long-deserted hook
The absent portrait seems.
And in her happy dreams,
Upon its long-deserted hook
The absent portrait seems.
Thy wretched infant turns his head
In melancholy wise,
And looks to meet the placid stare
Of those unbending eyes.
In melancholy wise,
And looks to meet the placid stare
Of those unbending eyes.
I never saw thee, lovely one,—
Perchance I never may;
It is not often that we cross
Such people in our way;
Perchance I never may;
It is not often that we cross
Such people in our way;
But if we meet in distant years,
Or on some foreign shore,
Sure I can take my Bible oath,
I 've seen that face before.
Or on some foreign shore,
Sure I can take my Bible oath,
I 've seen that face before.
| The complete poetical works of Oliver Wendell Holmes | |