Poems and Songs

The Retoucher

[In this poem Lord Byron is retouched, and as a consequence spoilt, by a photographer]

He knew "Garth" went in for the Lead,

He followed, thus, the mania spread. -

Before his swift, effacing fingers

Vanish the lines where passion lingers;

He marks upon the withered fair

The fracture of the nose that's there;

It flies with furrowed lines that streak

Adown, athwart, the freckled cheek;

And with no inartistic eye

(But custom wins, he weeps, not now,)

He models that chill, changeless brow,

Whose flabbiness, or apathy

Appals the gazing sitter's heart -

(What knoweth such as she of art?)

The face she dreads, yet dwells upon,

Flabby, but young;  ah!  youth alone,

Of all the virtues most seraphic,

Hides every sin that's photographic


A Diston JUN.     (With a thousand apologies to the gentleman whom I have taken the liberty to retouch)

Photography  26 May 1892

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