NLY two patient eyes to stare <br />Out of the canvas. All the rest- <br />The warm green gown, the small hands pressed <br />Light in the lap, the braided hair <br /> <br />That must have made the sweet low brow <br />So earnest, centuries ago, <br />When some one saw it change and glow- <br />All faded! Just the eyes burn now. <br /> <br />I dare say people pass and pass <br />Before the blistered little frame, <br />And dingy work without a name <br />Stuck in behind its square of glass. <br /> <br />But I, well, I left Raphael <br />Just to come drink these eyes of hers, <br />To think away the stains and blurs <br />And make all new again and well. <br /> <br />Only, for tears my head will bow, <br />Because there on my heart's last wall, <br />Scarce one tint left to tell it all, <br />A picture keeps its eyes, somehow.<br /><br />William Vaughn Moody<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/faded-pictures-2/
