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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=416556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Art And Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=416556" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He faced his canvas (as a seer whose ken<br>Pierces the crust of this existence through)<br>And smiled beyond on that his genius knew<br>Ere mated with his being. Conscious then<br>Of his high theme alone, he smiled again<br>Straight back upon himself in many a hue<br>And tint, and light and shade, which slowly grew<br>Enfeatured of a fair girl's face, as when<br>First time she smiles for love's sake with no fear.<br>So wrought he, witless that behind him leant<br>A woman, with old features, dim and sear,<br>And glamoured eyes that felt the brimming tear,<br>And with a voice, like some sad instrument,<br>That sighing said, 'I'm dead there; love me here!'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a></strong></div>

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