WORDSWORTH'S POETICAL WORKS. 1834. LINES. SUGGESTED BY A PORTRAIT FROM THE PENCIL OF F. STONE. [This Portrait has hung for many years in our principal sittingroom, and represents J. Q.* as she was when a girl. The picture, though it is somewhat thinly painted, has much merit in tone and general effect it is chiefly valuable, however, from the sentiment that pervades it. The anecdote of the saying of the monk in sight of Titian's picture was told in this house by Mr Wilkie, and was, I believe, first communicated to the public in this poem, the former portion of which I was composing at the time. Southey heard the story from Miss Hutchinson, and transferred it to the "Doctor"; but it is not easy to explain how my friend Mr Rogers, in a note subsequently added to his "Italy," was led to speak of the same remarkable words having many years before been spoken in his hearing by a monk or priest in front of a picture of the Last Supper, placed over a Refectory-table in a convent at Padua.] BEGUILED into forgetfulness of care Due to the day's unfinished task; of pen Before my window, oftentimes and long I gaze upon a Portrait whose mild gleam Of beauty never ceases to enrich The common light; whose stillness charms the air, Whose silence, for the pleasure of the ear, * See Note A in the Appendix to this volume.-ED. With emblematic purity attired In a white vest, white as her marble neck The treasure, what mine eyes behold see thou, Even though the Atlantic ocean roll between. A silver line, that runs from brow to crown Of motion they renounce, and with the head In humble grace, and quiet pensiveness Caught at the point where it stops short of sadness. Offspring of soul-bewitching Art, make me Thy confidant! say, whence derived that air Of calm abstraction? Can the ruling thought Be with some lover far away, or one Has but approached the gates of womanhood, Her right hand, as it lies Of yellowing corn, the same that overtopped She sits, for that departed Mother's sake. Of calm abstraction through the face diffused Words have something told More than the pencil can, and verily |