ART MAY BE RED BUT DOES IT FLY

SAINTS with LIONS

I D O L S

The moon of wasting science wanes away Among her stars, and in that darkness vast The sons of earth to their foul idols pray SHELLEY 1817

ECHOES

Remaining betwixt dark and bright Lull’d echoes of laborious day Come to you, gleams of mellow light Float by you on the verge of night TENNYSON 1832

SILVER SPIKES

The fat earth feed thy branchy root That under deeply strikes The northern morning o’er thee shoot High up, in silver spikes TENNYSON 1842

SILENCE

Lulled by note of bird and bee Or lulled by noontide’s silence deep I need but nestle down beneath my tree And drop asleep CHRISTINA ROSSETTI 1876

H I V E

As bees in spring time when the sun with taurus rides pour forth their populous youth about the hive MILTON 1667

PATHLESS BLUE

Like some radiant cloud of morning dew, Which wanders thro’ the waste air’s pathless blue, To nourish some far desert: she did seem Beside me, gathering beauty as she grew, Like the bright shade of some immortal dream SHELLEY 1816

A R G E N T

In the neighbouring moon as some have dreamed; Those argent fields more likely habitants, Translated Saints, or middle Spirits hold Betwixt the angelical and human kind MILTON 1667

CHALICES

With graceful chalices of curious wine, Wonders of art – and costly jars, And bossed salvers. Ere young night divine Crowned dying day with stars TENNYSON 1833

SUBLIME

Twining memories of old time With new virtues more sublime; If not, perish thou and they, Clouds which stain truth’s rising day SHELLEY 1818

BROCADE

These golden fetters rang like precious little bells; and what with that ringing, and with the rustle of silk and brocade and fine linen, there was a flutter in the air CHARLES DICKENS 1859