It pleased her to step in front and sit

      Where the cragged slope was green,

While I stood back that I might pencil it

      With her amid the scene;

         Till it gloomed and rained;

But I kept on, despite the drifting wet

         That fell and stained

My draught, leaving for curious quizzings yet

         The blots engrained.

   And thus I drew her there alone,

      Seated amid the gauze

Of moisture, hooded, only her outline shown,

      With rainfall marked across.

         —Soon passed our stay;

Yet her rainy form is the Genius still of the spot,

         Immutable, yea,

Though the place now knows her no more, and has known her not

         Ever since that day.

From an old note.