Of my Supernal Self. A mere reflection
From Nature's mirror would but mar my beauty.
No; I must limn myself for the inspection
Of men and gods; it is a simple duty.
This does not satisfy me. And it is
Too late, I fear, for Grandmamma's R.A.
Besides, those English journalists might quiz
Even Imperial Art. They've their own way
Too much by far in that ill-ordered isle,
Those cheeky critic-fellows. Let me catch