Here you will find the Poem Art of poet Alfred Noyes
I Yes! Beauty still rebels! Our dreams like clouds disperse: She dwells In agate, marble, verse. No false constraint be thine! But, for right walking, choose The fine, The strict cothurnus, Muse. Vainly ye seek to escape The toil! The yielding phrase Ye shape Is clay, not chrysoprase. And all in vain ye scorn That seeming ease which ne?er Was born Of aught but love and care. Take up the sculptor?s tool! Recall the gods that die To rule In Parian o?er the sky. II Poet, let passion sleep Till with the cosmic rhyme You keep Eternal tone and time, By rule of hour and flower, By strength of stern restraint And power To fail and not to faint. The task is hard to learn While all the songs of Spring Return Along the blood and sing. Yet hear?from her deep skies, How Art, for all your pain, Still cries Ye must be born again! Reject the wreath of rose, Take up the crown of thorn That shows To-night a child is born. The far immortal face In chosen onyx fine Enchase, Delicate line by line. Strive with Carrara, fight With Parian, till there steal To light Apollo?s pure profile. Set the great lucid form Free from its marble tomb To storm The heights of death and doom. Take up the sculptor?s tool! Recall the gods that die To rule In Parian o?er the sky.