Gallery-noise is a
seasonal beast
Now sharp, now young;
now soft-treading away.
Touching the eye with
the touch of the fray
Gallery-love is
immovable feast.
A certain mad haste is
checked by the door
None becalmed, the
still mind snared fast
Today's daily colours
now torn from the mast
To heal, one lances the
festering sore.
The orphaned eye, once
fed, hungers for more,
Surfeit and surcease
draw further apart,
The mind dwells, weaves
spells, runs after fancy,
So go write upon the
danger of art!
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