He held some land, and dwelt thereon,— Where, I forget, the house is gone; His Christian name, I think, was John,— His surname, Leisure. Reynolds has painted him,-a face Filled with a fine, old-fashioned grace, Fresh-coloured, frank, with ne'er a trace Of trouble shaded; The eyes are blue, the hair is drest In plainest way,-one hand is prest Deep in a flapped canary vest, With buds brocaded. He wears a brown old Brunswick coat, With silver buttons,-round his throat, A soft cravat;-in all you note An elder fashion,— A strangeness, which, to us who shine In shapely hats,-whose coats combine All harmonies of hue and line, Inspires compassion. |