Have I not seen your face before
Where Perugino's angels stand
In those calm circles, and adore
With singing throat and lifted hand,

And pale hair folded crescent-wise,
About the placid forehead curled,
And the pale piety of eyes
Steadfast with peace upon the world?

I pause and watch you as you lean
Out of the doorway of your house,
With eyes grown happier to have seen
The Umbrian halo on your brows.