ARS VICTRIX. "Oui, l'œuvre sort plus belle D'une forme au travail Rebelle, Vers, marbre, onyx, émail.” THEOPHILE GAUTIER. YES; when the ways oppose— When the hard means rebel, Fairer the work out-grows,— More potent far the spell. O Poet, then, forbear The loosely-sandalled verse, Choose rather thou to wear The buskin-strait and terse; See that thy form demand The labour of the file; Leave to the tiro's hand The limp pedestrian style. Sculptor, do thou discard The yielding clay,-consign To Parian pure and hard The beauty of thy line ; Model thy Satyr's face In bronze of Syracuse; In the veined agate trace The profile of thy Muse. Painter, that still must mix But transient tints anew, Thou in the furnace fix The firm enamel's hue; Only the lofty Rhyme Not countless years o'erthrow,— Not long array of time. Paint, chisel then, or write; But, that the work surpass, With the hard fashion fight, With the resisting mass. APPLE-BLOSSOMS. In the young year, when through the cloudless mind But light dreams float, and blossoms strew the ground, Among mossed apple-trees a trunk I found, And carved a name I knew across the rind. Then in the pink, soft-settling drift reclined, I slept, and dreamed that she my heart had crowned E'en then must pass across this orchard, bound On errand slight, or purpose scarce defined. |