The Vanities of Art

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The Vanities of Art From "The Cros*," a Poem

The work of art, all in vain it grows,

Fair statues, palaces and temples stand;

In vain his love the toiling artist shows,

With dreams of beauty consecrates the land. w Lo, time art's triumphs to an ending brings,

If naught the revellers of life may heed; w?, :

Aye, though earth's potentates, the mighty kings,

They lift not eyes, nor list the solemn rede!

view once more the wonders of the arts,

In those bright realms where art has fairest

#f been,

The works of skillful hands and eager hearts,

Their beauty now is but in ruins seen!

For in the lands where art the ages crown,

In ruins there its richest treasures found,

As from the sky, like fate, the sun looks down,

And sees destruction in its endless round.

Alfred Lambourne

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