Classic Poem

Prelude

The gates of Art, though closed, should still allure
To mystery and treasure and delight,
Making the fleeting things of life more sure
And Beauty's promise part of Beauty's might.

You who have learned how empty are the hands
O'erladen in the quest of fame of pelf,
Pause here, the while an unseen angel stands
Before these doors to give you to yourself.

You may not find beyond the portals fair
Some slavish mould of Life's or Nature's mood,
But, looking deep, may catch the secret rare
Of Beauty ever waiting to be wooed.

Enter with hope and joy and Youth's fine glow,
In awesome search for your elusive soul;
Then, though you find not, surely you may know
The lure of seeking, worthier than the goal.