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.

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