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Show BEHIND THE ARRAS-A. D. 1480. "Nay, father, ‘tis weary day by day, In stones and in metals work away At the goldsmith's tiresome trade-" "Ah, so? A ‘tiresome trade!" I'd have thee know That silver and gold are precious things, And the gems we cut are gems for Kings To wear in their crowns-" "But father, hear? Thou e'er hast been so kind and dear, That now I am bold to do what yet I never have ventured-ask thy let To follow my bent, for I would paint Pictures-oh, many and many a skin! For the ?? where people know, and when I come to be famous father then Thy heart will flutter with inward joy, To think that the painter is thy boy." "The whim of a lad? What proof have I Of the bent thou boasteth?" "Let me try The strength there is in me. Let me take A panel just like Van Eyck's, and make No holy Madonna thereon, nor Christ, Nor such as the masters have ?? But only myself, look will place Yon ?? mirror before my face, And copy the form I find therein, And then, if the portrait fails to win The recognition of those who go To school with me every day-why, so I'll bend to thy will, and own I'm made To follow my father's goldsmith trade. Do the terms content tho?" "Yea, if thou, Unaided, dost paint a portrait now Which ?? school agree Can not be thine-Well, then we'll see Which craftsman's tools are the tools for thee." II. "My picture is finished, father. Call [unreadable], one and all, Straight into the shop. On a panel there, Near the head Van Dyck has painted, where They well can see it, my work is hung, With an antique bit of ?? Pound it, where by, in sooth, I meant To make them believe it came from Ghent." "Well, well, as thou wilt. My silver dove is finished, and ready to perch above St. ?? shrine. (The one I [unreadable] was like to this. As it flew from the ark so pure and white.) The scholars will want to come to ??, For I promised them all, the other day, They should see it before it was sent away, And then, as I said, if they declare That thine are the eyes, the mouth, the hair-Just thine and none other's-why, thou mayst use Thy will, and have leave which craft to choose-Ah, here are the boys! -My task is done, Sweet lads! Is the dove a pretty one?" "[unreadable] the sky! Aye marry, it seems about to fly Look, ?? it verily winks its eye At Albrecht yonder, who hides I ween, A little beyond the Arras screen!" "No Albrecht is there, he left the door Just only a moment or two before You entered-" "Who then, who then, is he That under the Arras stares at me? ‘Tis Albrecht Durer, beyond a doubt! Ho, comrades I think we can drag him out!" "Ah, me! That settles the part I made The boy will give up an honest trade For the silly brush, yet, mayhap, some day The world shall hear of him-who can say?"-Wide Awake. |