Whose blissful cadences the enwrapt ear
Of wondering mortals caught with silent joy,
Had conjured up in wild and weird-like spell,
No face that ever was so fair and bright.
One look she gave the painter as he gazed,
That made to him a desert of the world—
A look so full of passion and of love,
It turned the memory of the past a blank,
And in the future left him naught but her.
His soul was all afire, and his brain