Poems (Blagden)/A portrait from memory
A PORTRAIT FROM MEMORY.
1868.
A Persian princess, tall and fair, With lustrous lengths of amber hair, A lovely, tender, small child's face, A floating step, a queenly grace, A lily robe, all striped and barred With lines of gold, and diapered With black, as once Venetian dames Wore, and yet wear, within the frames Of Bonifazio, Tintoret, And glorious Titian (jewels set On palace walls within that shrine Vowed to Thalassa the Divine, Which men call Venice); two grey eyes, With liquid, subtle, flatteries For all they look on; frank, serene, Pure from all grief, or care, or sin; For grief will dim, sin leaves a stain Which brightest eyes must still retain: But hers are cloudless, clear, and bright, Like angel eyes, all love, all light.
A rosy fan hung from her wrist (A white flower by a loory kissed), And round her fair throat's graceful curve Were coral beads, whose hue might serve To match the full lips—ripe and sweet. So noble, perfect, and complete Her beauty; yet she wears it calm, As queens their crown, as saints their palm.
Such was the vision once I saw—Peerless, without a fleck or flaw, 'Mid blossoms faint and trembling trees All fluttering in the soft south breeze. The passionate air breathed forth desire, Adoring nature glowed with fire, And love weighed down the drooping flowers, And murmured through the bird-full bowers. Its pulse was felt as sunbeams came And scorched the garden as with flame. And love thrilled each young worshipper Who then vowed life and soul to her.
Hers was the bounty but to be, That which all hearts rejoiced to see; The largess hers, but ours the boon; As when o'er earth the fair proud moon Shines with her soft resplendent face, A benediction and a grace Enrich our lives; the liberal skies Thus gladden with bright stars our eyes; Thus choicest gifts are granted free; Thus beauty is God's charity.