These make at last a storm which flashes out
In lightning revelations. Steady work
Turns genius to a loom ; the soul must lie
Like grapes beneath the sun till ripeness comes
And mellow vintage. I could paint you now
The finest Crucifixion ; yesternight
Returning home I saw it on a sky
Blue-black, thick-starred. I want two louis d'ors
To buy the canvas and the costly blues —
Trust me a fortnight."
"Where are those last two I lent thee for thy Judith ? — her thou saw'st In saffron gown, with Holofernes' head And beauty all complete ? "
" She is but sketched : I lack the proper model — and the mood. A great idea is an eagle's egg, Craves time for hatching ; while the eagle sits, Feed her."
"If thou wilt call thy pictures eggs I call the hatching, Work. 'T is God gives skill, But not without men's hands : He could not make Antonio Stradivari's violins Without Antonio. Get thee to thy easel."
1873. 1
