And so returns and flashes kiss and smile
Into the canvas quaking 'neath his brush,
Creating thus a masterpiece sublime.
And then there's surly Michelangelo
Who chisels Davids through the death-long night,
And paints Last Judgments through the livelong
day,
Pantingly running, pace on pace with Fame,
Racing dean-limbed toward his goal in life.
But I, poor changeling, wake, and dream, and