Herman Melville    

 

 

                                      Art

Ar    

                                     

Art

                                       In placid hours well-pleased we dream

           Of many a brave unbodied dream.

           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 things must mate,

                             And fuse with Jacob’s mystic heart,
                             To wrestle with the Angel—Art.
 

                                      

In                                 

placid