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THE GOD AND THE OPAL

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TO THÉOPHILE GAUTIER

Gray caught he from the cloud, and green from earth,

And from a human breast the fire he drew,

And life and death were blended in one dew.

A sunbeam golden with the morning's mirth,

A wan, salt phantom from the sea, a girth

Of silver from the moon, shot colour through

The soul invisible, until it grew


To fulness, and the Opal Song had birth.

And then the god became the artisan.

With rarest skill he made his gem to glow,

Carving and shaping it to beauty such

That down the cycles it shall gleam to man,

And evermore man's wonderment shall know

The perfect finish, the immortal touch.


Agnes Lee.


Enamels and Cameos and other Poems

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