In placid hours well-pleased we dream 

Of many a brave unbodied scheme. 

But form to lend, pulsed life create, 

What unlike things must meet and mate: 

A flame to melt—a wind to freeze; 

Sad patience—joyous energies; 

Humility—yet pride and scorn; 

Instinct and study; love and hate; 

Audacity—reverence. These must mate, 

And fuse with Jacob’s mystic heart, 

To wrestle with the angel—Art.


Herman Melville