A man paints with his brains
Not with his hands
A woman makes music not with her fingers
But with her heart
Death and love move the artist
We all labour to the genius
Of our own absolute love
But we must learn eternal patience
For faith in oneself is always
the best and safest course
In this brute world of circumstance
Our fate can change in an hour
If we have been pleased with life
We should not be displeased with death
Since all art comes in the end
From the same master
Still then would I hope that
I may always desire more than
I can humanly accomplish, therefore
That the art of God may shine in me
Not for any personal glory but
For the human good, for that spirit
I live and love in God’s peculiar light
And my soul can find no staircase to heaven
Unless it be through Earth’s loveliness.
