Ariel and Caliban / Christopher Pearse Cranch [electronic text]

ARS LONGA, VITA BREVIS.

I STARTED on a lonely road. A few companions with me went. Some fell behind, some forward strode, But all on one high purpose bent:

To live for Nature, finding truth In beauty, and the shrines of art; To consecrate our joyous youth To aims outside the common mart.

The way was steep, though pleasure crowned Our toil with every step we took. The morning air was spiced around From many a pine and cedar nook.

I turned aside and lingered long To pluck a rose, to hear a bird, To muse, while listening to the song Of brooks through leafy coverts heard;

To live in thoughts that brought no fame Or guerdon from the thoughtless crowd;

To toll for ends that could not claim The world's applauses coarse and loud;

Then onward pressed. But far before I saw my comrades on the heights. They no divided homage bore To Beauty's myriad sounds and sights.

In blithe self-confidence they wrought. Some strove for fame and fame's reward. They pleased the public's facile thought; Then paused and stretched them on the sward.

And still though oft I bind my sheaf In fields my comrades have not known; Though Art is long and life is brief, And youth has now forever flown,

I would not lose the raptures sweet, Nor scorn the toil of earlier years; Still would I climb with eager feet, Though towering height on height appears —

And up the mountain road I see A younger throng with voices loud, Who side by side press on with me, Till I am lost amid the crowd.