The Artist is the Creator of Beautiful Things

With the arrogance of youth, I determined to do no less than to transform the world with Beauty. If I have succeeded in some small way, if only in one small corner of the world, amongst the men and women I love, then I shall count myself blessed, and blessed, and blessed, and the work goes on.

Down where the unconquered river still flows on, One strong free thing within a prison’s heart, I drew me with my sacred grief apart, That it might look that spacious joy upon: And as I mused, lo! Dante walked with me, And his face spake of the high peace of pain Till all my grief glowed in me throbbingly As in some lily’s heart might glow the rain. So like a star I listened, till mine eye Caught that lone land across the water-way   Wherein my lady breathed,—now breathing is— ‘O Dante,’ then I said, 'she more than I Should know thy comfort, go to her, I pray.’   'Nay!’ answered he, 'for she hath Beatrice.’