Texas Finn
Endymion_A Thing of Beauty
Challenge 93 - October Sunsets & Landscapes (Art from 2017) Please post by November 5.
www.flickr.com/groups/exploreworthy/discuss/7215768817952...
EXPLORE Worthy, Challenge 93- October Sunsets & Landscapes (Art from 2017)
Also for:
New! ~ Challenge 163.0 ~ November ~ The Award Tree ~
www.flickr.com/groups/awardtree/discuss/72157687830376091/
John Keats
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
Endymion_A Thing of Beauty
Challenge 93 - October Sunsets & Landscapes (Art from 2017) Please post by November 5.
www.flickr.com/groups/exploreworthy/discuss/7215768817952...
EXPLORE Worthy, Challenge 93- October Sunsets & Landscapes (Art from 2017)
Also for:
New! ~ Challenge 163.0 ~ November ~ The Award Tree ~
www.flickr.com/groups/awardtree/discuss/72157687830376091/
John Keats
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.