PRAISED be the Art whose subtle power could stay <br />Yon cloud, and fix it in that glorious shape; <br />Nor would permit the thin smoke to escape, <br />Nor those bright sunbeams to forsake the day; <br />Which stopped that band of travellers on their way, <br />Ere they were lost within the shady wood; <br />And showed the Bark upon the glassy flood <br />For ever anchored in her sheltering bay. <br />Soul-soothing Art! whom Morning, Noontide, Even, <br />Do serve with all their changeful pageantry; <br />Thou, with ambition modest yet sublime, <br />Here, for the sight of mortal man, hast given <br />To one brief moment caught from fleeting time <br />The appropriate calm of blest eternity.<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/upon-the-sight-of-a-beautiful-picture-painted-by-sir-g-h-beaumont-bart/
