Gustav Dore L’Ascension 1883 Bob Jones University Museum and Art Gallery

Upon the canvas, once a sacred fire,
A brush did dance to lift the spirit high,
Through beauty’s grace, the soul would then aspire,
To realms where mortal cares and shadows die.
No jarring clash, no discord’s bitter sting,
But harmony in hues of light arrayed,
A silent hymn the heart could softly sing,
In marble carved, or golden tones displayed.
Yet now the muse seeks oft to rend, to break,
To shock the mind from slumber’s dull repose,
But lost, perchance, the stillness art could wake,
When once it bloomed like petals of a rose.
Let art ascend again, its purpose true,
To mend the soul with heaven’s boundless view.