Ah, who can look on that celestial face, And kindred for it claim with aught on earth? If ever here more lovely form had birth, -- No, never that supernal purity, -- that grace So eloquent of unimpassioned love! That, by a simple movement, thus imparts Its own harmonious peace, the while our hearts Rise, as by instinct, to the world above. And yet we look on cold, unconscious stone. But what is that which thus our spirits own As Truth and Life? 'T is not material Art, -- But e'en the Sculptor's soul to sense unsealed. O, never may he doubt, -- its witness so revealed, -- There lives within him an immortal part! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN I WAS A BIRD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE STORY OF THE ASHES AND THE FLAME by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE FABRIC OF LIFE by KAY RYAN THE DESCRIPTION OF COOKHAM by AEMILIA (BASSANO) LANYER A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG NYMPH GOING TO BED by JONATHAN SWIFT THE MOUNTAIN TOMB: 1. TO A CHILD DANCING IN THE WIND by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |