Art

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Art's noblest work from thingsRebellious to the trammel She wrings:Rhyme, marble, gem, enamel.

No false constrainments use!But so thy tread be stately, O Muse,Bind on the buskin straitly!

A rhythm too easy spurn;Sandals so wide of measure, In turn,Each doffs or dons at pleasure!

Sculptor, since clay is vile,Moulded with careless finger, The whileThy spirit elsewhere doth linger.

Bend thou on marbles hardAnd rare thy soul's endeavour; They guardTheir beauty pure for ever!

Seek Syracusan bronzeThat, firmly graven thorough. DisownsNo proud and graceful furrow;

Or, with a delicate hand,In veins of agate follow The grandGrave profile of Apollo.

Limner, lest mildew shameThy tints too evanescent, Let flameFast fix them incandescent.

Make sirens blue that combGold tresses trailing under The foam;Emblazon beasts of wonder: --

Jesus, with cross and globe,The triple-haloed Virgin Whose robeBears lily-bloom and burgeon.

Time brings all things to dust: --Art is Time's only rival. A bustThe city's sole survival.

The rigid disk some hindEarthed in its urn funereal Doth findReveals a form imperial.

The gods themselves must pass: --But sovran rhyme rings louder When brassAnd iron are ground to powder.

Against the hard stone setThy hand; hew, chisel, planish. Ere yetThe dream dissolve and vanish!

© Robertson William John