Great luck, I must have
For your gallery came in view.
There laid a similar face
That at dawn, my mirror drew.

I looked at every nook and cranny,
Even zoomed in the pitted dust.
By hook or crook, as they say
With every measure I must.

I saw no pictures there,
No proof of your presence at all.
Only your name echoed
In antique cups and dusty hall.

Yet I knew it was yours,
My devotion wasn't merely a cue.
Here I gloss at just your name
In this Gallery made for You