To welcome John from foreign lands.
You see that portrait in the room?
My great aunt’s—long ere she was wed.
Once, when my mother praised its bloom,
John turned to me and softly said
(And then at least he thought it true),
“A very lovely face—like you!”
Don’t blame him. No. I had no wealth:
His fortune, too, was all to seek.
Though love might enter in by stealth,