When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold, Our father Adamsat under theTree and scratched with a stick in the mould; And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, Till the Devilwhispered behind theleaves,'It'spretty, but is it Art?'
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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