Appearance should never attain reality, And if nature conquers, then must art retire.
The storm is master. Man, as a ball, is tossed twixt winds and billows.
Cowards have done good and kind actions, but a coward never pardoned.
The iron chain and the silken cord are both equally bonds.
What's old collapses, times change, And new life blossoms in the ruins.
No doubt the artist is the child of his time; but woe to him if he is also its disciple, or even its favorite.