Oh, thine eyes for my skies are
More radiant than stars are,
As here on my canvas you stand.
And my hills all about thee be
Less colored with beauty,
For thine arms and thine hands are grand.
Yea, my world is all you and
I paint it so true
In attempting to worthy it more,
Yet with brushing all done
I turn round to my one
And am lifted with light off the floor!