Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1833.pdf/18

Rh

Rh

She bends her lover’s rest above, Thoughtful with gentle hopes and fears, And that unutterable love Which never yet spoke but in tears; She would not that those tears should fall Upon the cherished sleeper’s face, She turns, and sees upon the wall Its imaged shade, its perfect grace; With eager hand she marked each line, The shadowy brow, the arching head, Till some creative power divine, Love’s likeness o’er love’s shadow spread: Since then, what passion and what power Has dwelt upon the painter’s art; How has it soothed the absent hour, With looks that wear life’s loveliest part.

Oh, painter of our English isle, Whose name is now upon my line, Who gave to beauty’s blush and smile All that could make them most divine, The fair Ionian’s ancient claim Was never paid, till paid by thee, And thou didst honour to her name, By showing what her sex can be. 12