For his heart was in his work, and the heart giveth grace unto every art.

Nature is a revelation of God; Art a revelation of man.

The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.

The setting of a great hope is like the setting of the sun. The brightness of our life is gone.

One half the world must sweat and groan that the other half may dream.

It is Lucifer, The son of mystery; And since God suffers him to be, He too, is God's minister, And labors for some good By us not understood.

Doubtless criticism was originally benignant, pointing out the beauties of a work rather that its defects. The passions of men have made it malignant, as a bad heart of Procreates turned the bed, the symbol of repose, into an instrument of torture.