Friday, 5 November 2010

Poetry and Prints

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
    There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
    Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
   Spring's honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
    Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
    He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness--to let fair things
    Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature

   John Keats

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year





Monotypes copyright S. Ross Donohue
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  1. Where did you find these prints? They are absolutely awesome!

  2. Just come back from France and am full of enthusiasm for the fantastic autumn there. I was delighted to read your poem. I've always liked that one and your pictures too are stunning.....ah I'm feeling all mellow, maybe it is due to the 'season of mists and mellow fruitfulness'!

  3. Shrinky - Thank you! Glad you like my prints. I made them (monotypes) several years back. Must do more.

  4. Facing50Blog - Thanks for the visit. I bet France was just beautiful. we love being there in the fall. Am off to visit your blog and read about your trip!