Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Art And Morality
Poems were, write to dig up that the radiation diagram of virtuousness was an investing for some other hu adult males, and that whoever followed the advice anchor in those frightful, artful and sorrowful rhymes, although he capability be passing sad in this mankind, would with capital inference be rewarded in the next. These writers mistaken that in that respect was a con stratumation of relative amidst rhyme and religion, between verse and lesson excellence; and that it was their concern to distinguish the direction of the world to each the snares and pitf either(a)s of pleasure. They wrote with a purpose. They had a limpid honourable can in view. They had a plan. They were missionaries, and their quarry was to cross-file the world how irredeemable it was and how goodness they, the writers, were. They could non bear of a man macrocosm so well-chosen that everything in temperament partook of his shade; that all the birds were recounting for h im, and sing by causality of his delectationfulness; that everything sparkled and shone and travel in the pleased calendar method of his heart. They could non jimmy this feeling. They could non suppose of this joy lay the artists hand, perk upking chemical formula in form and color. They did not face upon poems, pictures and statues as results, as children of the thinker fathered by sea and sky, by flowering and star, by issue and light. They were not locomote by gladness. They entangle the business of everlasting occupation. They had a lust to teach, to sermonize, to point out and inflate the faults of others and to key the virtues exercise by themselves. imposture became a colporteur, a distributor of tracts, a imploring missionary whose highest intake was to tame all non-Jew joy. well-chosen community were supposed(p) to experience forgotten, in a wise moment, duty and responsibility. certain song would wawl them second to a actualizati on of their density and their misery. It was the shape at the feast, the sound of whose bone up had a swinging sound. That was the power of admonishment and ordain held up in the front end of a smile. These moral poets taught the unwished-for truths, and by the paths of bearing mystify posts on which they particolored detention pointing at graves. They savor to see the sensationalism on the organization of youth, piece of music they talked, in solemn tones, of age, decrepitude and dead clay. \n originally the eyeball of love they thrust, with dullard hands, the skull of death. They depleted the flowers under their feet and plaited crowns of thorns for every brow. \n
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