ALL praise the Likeness by thy skill portrayed; But 'tis a fruitless task to paint for me, Who, yielding not to changes Time has made, By the habitual light of memory see Eyes unbedimmed, see bloom that cannot fade, And smiles that from their birth-place ne'er shall flee Into the land where ghosts and phantoms be; And, seeing this, own nothing in its stead. Couldst thou go back into far-distant years, Or share with me, fond thought! that inward eye, Then, and then only, Painter! could thy Art The visual powers of Nature satisfy, Which hold, whate'er to common sight appears, Their sovereign empire in a faithful heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FUNERAL HYMN by LOUIS UNTERMEYER FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 18 by THOMAS CAMPION A NEW EARTH by WILLIAM ARTHUR DUNKERLEY THE PILGRIM FATHERS by JOHN PIERPONT MUSIC, FR. TWELFTH NIGHT by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |