Art

In placid hours well-pleased we dream
Of many a brave unbodied scheme
But form to lend, pulsed life create
What unlike things must meet and mate:
A flame to melt—a wind to freeze;
Sad patience—joyous energies;
Humility—yet pride and scorn;
Instinct and study; love and hate;
Audacity—reverence. These must mate
And fuse with Jacob’s mystic heart
To wrestle with the angel—Art