| Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922. | | | | Opifex | | By Thomas Edward Brown (1830–1897) |
| | | AS I was carving images from clouds, | |
| And tinting them with soft ethereal dyes | |
| Pressed from the pulp of dreams, one comes, and cries:— | |
| ‘Forbear!’ and all my heaven with gloom enshrouds. | |
| |
| ‘Forbear! Thou hast no tools wherewith to essay | 5 |
| The delicate waves of that elusive grain: | |
| Wouldst have due recompense of vulgar pain? | |
| The potter’s wheel for thee, and some coarse clay! | |
| |
| ‘So work, if work thou must, O humbly skill’d! | |
| Thou hast not known the Master; in thy soul | 10 |
| His spirit moves not with a sweet control; | |
| Thou art outside, and art not of the guild.’ | |
| |
| Thereat I rose, and from his presence pass’d, | |
| But, going, murmur’d:—‘To the God above, | |
| Who holds my heart, and knows its store of love, | 15 |
| I turn from thee, thou proud iconoclast.’ | |
| |
| Then on the shore God stoop’d to me, and said:— | |
| ‘He spake the truth: even so the springs are set | |
| That move thy life, nor will they suffer let, | |
| Nor change their scope; else, living, thou wert dead. | 20 |
| |
| ‘This is thy life: indulge its natural flow, | |
| And carve these forms. They yet may find a place | |
| On shelves for them reserved. In any case, | |
| I bid thee carve them, knowing what I know.’ | | | | |
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