Artistry's haunting curse—the Incomplete?
Artists no doubt they both were,—what beside
Was she? who long had felt heart, soul spread wide
Her life out, knowing much and loving well,
On either side Art's narrow space where fell
Reflection from his own speck: but the germ
Of individual genius—what we term
The very self, the God-gift whence had grown
Heart's life and soul's life—how make that his own?
Vainly his Art, reflected, smiled in small