She was humble and obedient Sat meekly for weeks While the painter took glory in his work Went on from day to day
She was a maiden of rarest beauty All light and smiles and frolicsome Loving and cherishing all things Hating the art as her rival
He would not see the light which fell So ghastly in that turret Withered the health and spirit of his bride Who pined to all but him
Vivid light presents a portrait Flashing candles on the canvas Dreamy stupor stealing over Senses that recede from me
She was a maiden of rarest beauty All light and smiles and frolicsome Loving and cherishing all things Hating the art as her rival
As the labor drew near its conclusion The painter wild with ardor He would not see the tints he used Were drawn from her cheeks
And when but one stroke remained And then the tint was placed He stood entranced beside his work His wife sat pallid and deadTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
