THE PICTURE AND PAINTER
A picture said once on the painter’s play,
My beauty gets a charm on thy display.
To me it looks so unfair why?
That thou are hidden from my eye
The glance a burden on seeing eye,
What happened to spark on seeing pry
Of griefs, pains, burnings, the look bad a part,
O heedless! be content with conscious heart!
The heart a weak point of wisdom and sense,
A life long motive for the heart is glance.
This world’s tug and pull suits her never,
To hear God’s voice, "You cant see me ever
Thou art a sign but of my wonder’s game,
Be despaired never of thy maker’s aim.
For my sure vision note a point hence,
Be not hidden e’er from thy own glance!