Music, and Other Poems

PORTRAIT AND REALITY

     If on the closed curtain of my sight
         My fancy paints thy portrait far away,
         I see thee still the same, by night or day;
     Crossing the crowded street, or moving bright
     'Mid festal throngs, or reading by the light
       Of shaded lamp some friendly poet's lay,
       Or shepherding the children at their play,—
     The same sweet self, and my unchanged delight.

     But when I see thee near, I recognize
       In every dear familiar way some strange
     Perfection, and behold in April guise
       The magic of thy beauty that doth range
     Through many moods with infinite surprise,—
       Never the same, and sweeter with each change.

     May, 1904.