English poem
ART AND LIFE
by Lola Ridge (1873–1941)
When Art goes bounding, lean, Up hill-tops fired green To pluck a rose for life.
Life like a broody hen Cluck-clucks him back again.
But when Art, imbecile, Sits old and chill On sidings shaven clean, And counts his clustering Dead daisies on a string With witless laughter....
Then like a new Jill Toiling up a hill Life scrambles after.