Much More

When a great artist acts,
And produces great art,
His work becomes fact
In the mind and the heart.

Then the viewer is lit
With a fire in his soul,
Completing the hit
Of the artist’s control.

Here now we see drawn
The deft lines of his might
That wakens joy’s dawn
For the sun of his sight.

And we feel the fine glow
And are rapt by his skill,
And we nod and say, “Lo,
What a masterful will!”

But for him it’s much more
Than the best of men’s praise—
His own triumph is sure
For the rest of his days.

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