Poems (Piatt)/Volume 1/The Order for her Portrait
THE ORDER FOR HER PORTRAIT.
I say what Cromwell said, (Smile, grey-haired sceptic, if you think me bold)And that Italian count whose hair was red,— His great will would not have it painted gold.
No, I am brave, not vain; Braver than he of Macedon, since IFor Vanity's slight sake would hardly stain Art and the awful future with a lie:
You know that hand whose pride Within its hollow held one world, afarReaching for others, raised itself to hide On pictured brows the glory of a scar.
But paint me as I am, Whatever shape or colour you may see;And do not fold the white fleece of the lamb About the yellow lioness, for me.
Ay, as I am. And then, No matter what you on your canvas find,It shall not shrink before the eyes of men; It shall be truth—unless your soul be blind!