"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
Poetry: Poems of Acclaim
There's been a death...
- There's been a death in the opposite house
- As lately as to-day;
- I know it by the numb look
- Such houses have alway.
- The neighbors rustle in and out,
- The doctor drives away.
- A window opens like a pod,
- Abrupt, mechanically;
- Somebody flings a mattress out, --
- The children hurry by;
- They wonder if It died on that, --
- I used to when a boy.
- The minister goes stiffly in
- As if the house were his,
- And he owned all the mourners now,
- And little boys besides;
- And then the milliner, and the man
- of the appalling trade,
- to take the measure of the house.
- There'll be that dark parade.
- Of tassels and if coaches soon;
- It's easy as a sign,--
- The intuition of the news
- In just a country town.
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)