I Am Never Long, Even In The

From The Mingled Strength Of Shade And Light A New Creation Rises To My Sight, Such Heav'nly Figures From His Pencil Flow, So Warm With Light His Blended Colors Glow. . . . . The Glowing Portraits, Fresh From Life, That Bring Home To Our Hearts The Truth From Which They Spring.

My Altars Are The Mountains And The Ocean.

My Hair Is Grey, But Not With Years, Nor Grew It White In A Single Night, As Men's Have Grown From Sudden Fears.

Think Not I Am What I Appear.

So Sweet The Blush Of Bashfulness, E'en Pity Scarce Can Wish It Less!