My Old Palette

Many a year has fled away Since this old palette was new, As may be seen by the spots of green And yellow and red and blue. Many a picture was painted from this, While many were only dreamed; And shadow and light like the black and white Across my life have streamed. Accept, my friend, this plain old board All plastered and imbrowned, Where the pleasure and strife of a painter's life Have left a mosaic ground. The color that went to the picture's soul Has left but its body behind; Yet strive to trace on its cloudy face Some gleam of the artist's mind.