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 anew!
And those who love God will be happy: they shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with brushes of comets' 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!