In placid hours well-pleased we dream
 Of many a brave unbodied scheme.
 But form to lend, pulsed life create,
 What unlike things must meet and mate:
 A flame to melt -- a wind to freeze;
 Sad patience -- joyous energies;
 Humility -- yet pride and scorn;
 Instinct and study; love and hate;
 Audacity -- reverence. These must mate,
 And fuse with Jacob's mystic heart,
 To wrestle with the angel -- Art.