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by eochaid
209 days ago
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New things are hard to value. > 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?’ — Rudyard Kipling, The Conundrum of the Workshops [1] [1] https://poets.org/poem/conundrum-workshops |
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