EDITH is fair, the painter said,
“Her cheek so richly glows,
My palette ne’er could match the red
Of that pure damask rose.
“Perchance, the evening rain-drops light,
Soft sprinkling from above,
Have caught the sunset’s colour bright,
And borne it to my love.
“In distant regions I must seek
For tints before unknown,
Ere I can paint the brilliant cheek
That blooms for me alone.”
All this his little sister heard,
Who frolicked by his side;
To check such theories absurd,
That gay young sprite replied:
“Oh, I can tell you where to get
That pretty crimson bloom,
For in a bottle it is set
In Cousin Edith’s room.
“I’m sure that I could find the place,
If you want some to keep;
I watched her put it on her face–
She didn’t see me peep!
“So nicely she laid on the pink,
As well as you could do,
And really, I almost think
She is an artist, too.”
The maddened painter tore his hair,
And vowed he ne’er would wed,
And never since, to maiden fair,
A tender word has said.
Bright ruby cheeks, and skin of pearl,
He knows a shower may spoil,
And when he wants a blooming girl
Paints one himself in oil.
(Constance Naden)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Light Poems, Fairness Poems, Place Poems, Art Poems, Hair Poems, Drawing & Painting PoemsBased on Keywords: frolicked, rain-drops, edith, sprinkling