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Henry Van Dyke - Portrait and Reality
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If on the closed curtain of my sight
    My fancy paints thy portrait far away,
    I see thee still the same, by night or day;
Crossing the crowded street, or moving bright
`Mid festal throngs, or reading by the light
  Of shaded lamp some friendly poet`s lay,
  Or shepherding the children at their play,—
The same sweet self, and my unchanged delight.

But when I see thee near, I recognize
  In every dear familiar way some strange
Perfection, and behold in April guise
  The magic of thy beauty that doth range
Through many moods with infinite surprise,—
  Never the same, and sweeter with each change.
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