Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
- - WB Yeats, Sailing to Byzantium
Art from Intricacies: A Book of Collaborative Drawings Inspired by Nature | Colossal
Posted by gerardvanderleun at November 28, 2014 3:54 PMMiracle, bird or golden handiwork,
More miracle than bird or handiwork,
Planted on the star-lit golden bough,
Can like the cocks of Hades crow,
Or, by the moon embittered, scorn aloud
In glory of changeless metal
Common bird or petal
And all complexities of mire or blood.
—W. B. Yeats: Byzantium
Posted by: ShakespearesDebtor at December 2, 2014 7:09 AM
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