Seeing Thou is oft
Like delving into
A painting perhaps,
Thinking of You
Is no less than
Going near that
Place, where me
Spell a book,
Twilight descending
Upon us cool,
Breeze becalming
Us all,
Trees leaving their
Writings on the wall,
And standing before
Thy Eternal passion,
A painted motion,
A valedictorian address,
An emptied Space,
How I feel in
Every pore
Of my skin
Dews
They drop
Like those wintry
Shapes,
Misty fog
Draping
Me within,
Without,
Only a lamp
Coming in,
As perhaps
Abbey Altson
Got the Feel,
Whilst he
Drew Thou.
{*Note: the painting attached was done by Abbey Altson (1864-1937), upon which the scribbling is loosely based.
#HenryJames: the author of "The Portrait of a Lady"
The painting attached is actually used in one particular Edition of Henry James book as mentioned, as a cover photo/page illustration}
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