A penniless wretch an artist was called;
He lived in perfume of pain.
Although he soared and soared
To penetrate deep
Within air, dust — sun shined vain.
He solved the space within unknown drugs;
A million spoke at large
Of minds, works, e'en God!
Yet he of spreading eye
Was hungry — close to die!
He lived in perfume of pain.
Although he soared and soared
To penetrate deep
Within air, dust — sun shined vain.
He solved the space within unknown drugs;
A million spoke at large
Of minds, works, e'en God!
Yet he of spreading eye
Was hungry — close to die!