A Face
If one could have that little head of hers Painted upon a background of pure gold, Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers! No shade...
This is a poetry & verse.
If one could have that little head of hers Painted upon a background of pure gold, Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers! No shade encroaching on the matchless mould Of those two lips, which should be opening soft In the pure profile; not as when she laughs, For that spoils all: but rather as if aloft Yon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff's Burden of honey-colored buds to kiss And capture 'twixt the lips apart for this.…
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