Monday, September 5, 2011


When earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes are
twisted and dried,
When the oldest colors have faded, and the youngest critic
has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it- lie down for an
aeon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us to work

And those that were good will be happy: they shall sit in a
golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of
comet's hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from- Magdalene, Peter,
and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never be tired
at all!

And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master
shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work
for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his
separate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things
as They Are!

-Rudyard Kipling

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