Br What love is like, indeed, has oft been toid. Yet painting in a pattern for bright shawls, Or tapestries to glorify égh halls, If full of colour be your brush and bold Your strokes, forgetting not gray threads and gold, I think like this true love may somewhat be. 'A treasure few may keep but all would see.
Right beautiful vhen new, most rare grown old. Let beauty guide. Choose how or where you will, Fresh greens with yellows, then vermilion rose, Blend purples into blue.
Upon a hill Black birds on nests in snow, old artists drew. Use there. A harmony, the pattern shows Created from life's whole and love wrought true.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.