LINES TO A PORTRAIT, BY A SUPERIOR PERSON

by: Bret Harte (1836-1902)

      HEN I bought you for a song,
      Years ago -- Lord knows how long!--
      I was struck -- I may be wrong--
      By your features,
      And -- a something in your air
      That I could n't quite compare
      To my other plain or fair
      Fellow-creatures.
       
      In your simple, oval frame
      You were not well known to fame,
      But to me -- 't was all the same --
      Whoe'er drew you;
      For your face I can't forget,
      Though I oftentimes regret
      That, somehow, I never yet
      Saw quite through you.
       
      Yet each morning, when I rise,
      I go first to greet your eyes;
      And, in turn, you scrutinize
      My presentment.
      And when shades of evening fall,
      As you hang upon my wall,
      You're the last thing I recall
      With contentment.
       
      It is weakness, yet I know
      That I never turned to go
      Anywhere, for weal or woe,
      But I lingered
      For one parting, thrilling flash
      From your eyes, to give that dash
      To the curl of my moustache,
      That I fingered.
       
      If to some you may seem plain,
      And when people glance again
      Where you hang, their lips refrain
      From confession;
      Yet they turn in stealth aside,
      And I note, they try to hide
      How much they are satisfied
      In expression.
       
      Other faces I have seen;
      Other forms have come between;
      Other things I have, I ween,
      Done and dared for!
      But our ties they cannot sever,
      And, though I should say it never,
      You're the only one I ever
      Really cared for!
       
      And you'll still be hanging there
      When we're both the worse for wear,
      And the silver's on my hair
      And off your backing;
      Yet my faith shall never pass
      In my dear old shaving-glass,
      Till my face and yours, alas!
      Both are lacking!

"Lines to a Portrait, by a Superior Person" is reprinted from The Writings of Bret Harte, Vol. XX. Ed. Charles Meeker Kozlay. Cambridge: Riverside Press, 1914.

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