As it was in the beginning,
Is to-day official sinning,
And shall be for evermore.
Rudyard Kipling.
THE CONUNDRUM OF THE WORKSHOPS
WHEN the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, “It’s pretty, but is it Art?”