THE FORNARINA. <br /> <br />AND bless'd was she thou lovedst, for whose sake <br />Thy wit did veil in fanciful disguise <br />The answer which thou wert compell'd to make <br />To Rome's High Priest, and call'd her then 'Thine Eyes;' <br />Tho' of her life obscure there is no trace, <br />Save where its thread with THY bright history twines,-- <br />Tho' all we know of her be that sweet face <br />Whose nameless beauty from thy canvass shines,-- <br />Dependent still upon her Raphael's fame, <br />And but recorded by her low degree, <br />As one who had in life no higher claim <br />Than to be painted and be loved by thee;-- <br />Yet would I be forgot, as she is now, <br />Once to have press'd my lips on that seraphic brow!<br /><br />Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-iii-13/
