The love that knows no doubting! Well he knew—
Too well for his fond hopes—that brawny arms
Guide not the pencil, and that smithy strokes
Fix not the fancies of a painter’s mind;
But still for that. To gaze into the eyes
That sparkled all for him was inspiration
Better than painter’s best: long days and nights
He strove as only lovers strive; at last
The passport to the haven of his hopes
Came in a touch, as if some angel hand