He saved a hurt black petrel which he found
Upon a steamer deck one stormy night,
And nursed it back to health till it was sound,
Then launched the lonely-soaring creature into flight.

Paul was an injured lonely ‘bird’ himself
Whose wife launched him upon his true career.
Of all the printing arts upon the shelf,
He chose box-wood engraving without fear.

He mastered ev’ry nuance of his art,
But favored black and white for all his prints.
His compositions and designs, in whole and part,
Do not o’erwhelm, but please one through their hints.

He ruthlessly destroyed his early prints, so that at last
His work would be original, not copied from the past.

Copyright (2006) by Arnold Cantor.
All rights reserved.

[Written October 28, 2006; slightly adjusted November 2, 2006.]