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

So the pale hair lay crescent-wise,
     About the placid forehead curled,
And the pale piety of eyes
     Was as God’s peace upon the world.

And you, a simple child serene,
     Wander upon your quiet way,
Nor know that any eyes have seen
     The Umbrian halo crown the day.