I hailed me a woman from the street, Shameless, but, oh, so fair! I bade her sit in the model's seat And I painted her sitting there. I hid all trace of her heart unclean; I painted a babe at her breast; I painted her as she might have been If the Worst had been the Best. She laughed at my picture and went away. Then came, with a knowing nod, A connoisseur, and I heard him say; "'Tis Mary, the mother of God." So I painted a halo round her hair, And I sold her and took my fee, And she hangs in the church of Saint Hillaire, Where you and all may see. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CROTALUS by FRANCIS BRET HARTE CYNTHIADES: TO CYNTHIA ON CONCEALMENT OF HER BEAUTY by FRANCIS KYNASTON MY AIN WIFE by ALEXANDER LAING A WORD TO THE WEST END by THOMAS ASHE THE CATERPILLAR by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD S. BARNABIE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |