Freston
95
HER PICTURE
He was an artist,—Leopold his name,—
Painting with skilful hand his way to fame;
She was a girl, from whose quick, ready pen,
Bright fancies flowed of angels, flowers and men.
He worshiped at the shrine of Angelo,
The name of Raphael made his pale cheek glow;
He wished to stand one day in fame with them,
While she, the poet, worshiped only him.
He wanted all the world his power to own;
She humbly prayed to win his praise alone.
Painting with skilful hand his way to fame;
She was a girl, from whose quick, ready pen,
Bright fancies flowed of angels, flowers and men.
He worshiped at the shrine of Angelo,
The name of Raphael made his pale cheek glow;
He wished to stand one day in fame with them,
While she, the poet, worshiped only him.
He wanted all the world his power to own;
She humbly prayed to win his praise alone.
"Let me be sure he loves me, and I know
I'll do Thy work so well! Let me but go
Through life beside him, and Thy gracious gift,
In gratitude, I'll ever use to lift
Up to Thy feet the fallen, solace bring
To hearts grown bitter through much suffering.
Grant me this happiness! For his dear sake,
I'd give up life and hope and all save Thee!
I'll do Thy work so well! Let me but go
Through life beside him, and Thy gracious gift,
In gratitude, I'll ever use to lift
Up to Thy feet the fallen, solace bring
To hearts grown bitter through much suffering.
Grant me this happiness! For his dear sake,
I'd give up life and hope and all save Thee!
