(15 July 1606 / 7 – 4 October 1669)
A man from Leiden sallied forth,
Though plain of face, he ventured north;
From callow youth to grand old age
He shows himself at every stage,
An autobiography in paints
Along with sundry sinners and saints.
[His light and shade:His stock in trade:
Full in control
Of workings of the soul –
And mysterious light:
Enigmatic sight:
All of human thought
In his canvas caught.]
After long life, after his last breath,
He was a pauper at the death,
Forgotten then his splendid skill
And the phosphorescent thrill
Viewing the drama of his art,
Poured out expertly from the heart.
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