Wocky Jivvy: Poetry and Art "When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art?"
from Rudyard Kipling's The Conundrum of the Workshops

divider line and nothing more

* Poetry: Poems of Acclaim

Crossing the Bar

Sunset and evening star,
 And one clear call for me!
  And may there be no moaning of the bar,
 When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
 Too full for sound and foam,
  When that which drew from out the boundless deep
 Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
 And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;

  For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
 I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.

Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)

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