графиня Анна Варвик (anna_warvick) wrote,
графиня Анна Варвик


John Strudwick (1849 - 1937)

'Oh Swallow, Swallow'

Oh, Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South,
Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves,
And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee.

O tell here, Swallow, thou that knowest each,
That bright and fierce and fickle is the South,
And dark and true and tender is the North.

O were I thou that she might take me in,
And lay me on her bosom, and her heart
Would rock the snowy cradle till I died.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

When Apples were Golden and Songs were Sweet, But Summer had Passed away

Falling Leaves

St. Cecilia

The Music of a Bygone Age

The Ramparts of God's House

A Symphony

In the Golden Days

Нить судьбы (?)

Circe and Scylla

Tags: john strudwick, искусство, прерафаэлиты
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