The Painter and the Poet met on one fine day:
One was contemplating sorrow; the other contemporary clay.
In passing conversation; they struck a deal between the two:
"You come pose for me, and I'll compose for you."

One said, "I'll paint you a story in dots and lines:
And, you show me a picture of words and rhymes."
"Why don't we get together, and do as artists do:
You compose for me, and I'll come pose for you."

They each took plain white linen; as clean as it could be:
On each, one put the other, for all the world to see.