A Quote by Edith E. McGee on art and losing
We watch the liner in the distance glide Out from the sheltered waters of the bay, Into the arms of ocean's vastness won. Enfolded in infinity of tide We lose it, and the last faint smoke line gray Merges into the sunset and is gone. Vanished from sight and lost, art thou, at sea, Swallowed in ocean's blue immensity? Ah, no. Though trackless be the deep, and wide, Thy pilot shall bring thee triumphantly Into the harbor on the other side.
Contributed by: Zaady