Extract from the poem by Rudyard Kipling: “The Conundrum Of The Workshops.” When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden’s green and gold /Our father Adam sat under the Tree 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 Devil whispered behind the leaves, “It’s pretty, but is it Art?
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It’s Pretty, But Is It Art?
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