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The
best of artist hath no thought to show
Which the rough stone in its superfluous shell
Doth not include within the mass, and to this image arrives
Only the hand which obedient to the mind ~Michelangelo Buonarroti
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on
each hand; I saw from out the wave of her structure's rise As from the
stroke of the enchanter's wand: A thousand years their cloudy wings
expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many
a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble pines, Where Venice
sat in state, throned on her hundred isles. ~Lord Byron
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