[Illustration: Greek Passage-218]
("Ionica," 1877)
I am Her mirror, framed by him
Who likes and knows her. On my rim
No fret, no bead, no lace.
He tells me not to mind the scorning
Of every semblance of adorning,
Since I receive Her face.
Sept. 1877.
The following little Greek lyric occurs in a letter of December 18,
1862, to the Rev. E. D. Stone. "My lines," wrote William Johnson, "are
suggested by the death of Thorwaldsen: he died at the age of seventy,
imperceptibly, having fallen asleep at a concert. But when I had done
them, I remembered Provost Hawtrey's last appearance in public at a
music party, where he fell asleep: and so I value my lines as a bit of
honour done to him, and it seems odd that I should unintentionally have
caught in the second and third lines his characteristic sympathy with
the young...."