To the mind of the artist, for Art is a matter of images,"
And it seemed that he thought all these things when he gazed very hard
At a tub in a yard.
But at times he would tell me that Art was a mere interweaving
Of hues and designs; he had done what he could to expel
All thoughts and all visual objects, for these were deceiving,
And I told him, so far as an ignorant layman could tell,
He had done that quite well.
But I think that of all of his phases the last was most funny;
He was vestured in white when I met him by chance in the town;