Of rivers, nor hill-flowers running wild
In pink and purple chequer, nor, up-piled,
The cloudy rack slow journeying in the west,
Like herded elephants; nor felt,nor pressed
Cool grass, nor tasted the fresh slumbrous air;
from John Keats (1795-1821) Endymion Book 1 lines 285-290
2 comments:
Thank you for the photographs and the Keats.
'A thing of beauty is a joy forever'
Indeed.
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