"MY PICTURES.
"A famous artist over the sea
Promised to paint two pictures for me.
"He wrought, but his colors would not show
His pure ideal and heart's warm glow.
"And so the paintings are still unsent,
Though years ago their spirit went.
"Two pictures hang in my treasured thought—
My dream of those the artist wrought.
"They are sweet and fadeless, and soothe my sight,
When weary and sad, with a strange delight.
"But the light which shows their marvellous art
Is the generous glow of the painter's heart.
"This is the way that there came to me
The gift of pictures from over the sea."
"ANSWER.
"There's a parson out West in Chicago,
To whom I did promise—long ago—
A couple of pictures,
Not fearing strictures
Of the critical folk of Chicago.