I. In Youth He Wrought, With Eyes Ablur, Lorn-Faced And Long Of Hair - In Youth - In Youth He Painted Her A Sister Of The Air - Could Clasp Her Not, But Felt The Stir Of Pinions Everywhere. Ii. She Lured His Gaze, In Braver Days, And Tranced Him Sirenwise; And He Did Paint Her, Through A Haze Of Sullen Paradise, With Scars Of Kisses On Her Face And Embers In Her Eyes. Iii. And Now - Nor Dream Nor Wild Conceit - Though Faltering, As Before - Through Tears He Paints Her, As Is Meet, Tracing The Dear Face O'Er With Lilied Patience Meek And Sweet As Mother Mary Wore.