Shades and lights and shades and lights A windmill musing on the height A woman's passing with her child Another washing clothes nearby, But what's that creeping in the dark? The Artist's secret smile? In that boat which silently departs In that man's eyes worldly-wise, In that Majesty Macabre Among the things that always Are, One feels softly immortal. -"The Mill" is one of Rembrandt's masterpieces