  GOOD evening, Cousin! I’ve come, you see, Just as I promised; long ago, Don’t look so astonished—Welcome me! I’ve had a weary journey, you know. The Artist has done his best to please, Touched, and retouched, and polished well; Chosen a posture of perfect ease, Chattered of more than I can tell. I asked him, half jesting, to flatter me, For I need not be told that my face is plain; And when photos are starting ‘over the Sea’ I feel in my heart I’m a trifle vain. He smiled, then said to my strange request, “Beauty ’bove that of the face, for me; “Nature has given a richer bequest “Than perfect form of feature, to thee.” My foolish heart felt a joyous thrill— “He gives me credit for mental worth,” And fancy led me on, until I stood by the noble and true of Earth. Said I, “Thought is better than monarch’s crown, “Better be great and good, than fair;” But alas! My castles came tumbling down When I found he was talking about—my hair. |
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