Lovers

The Happy Lovers  Jean Honore Fragonard

Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes 

(To Celia) 

by Ben Jonson
 

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss within the cup,
And I'll not ask for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise,
Doth crave a drink divine;
But might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee
As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be;
But thou there on did't only breathe
And sent'st back to me,
Since when it grows and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

Machinations of the Mind

Hand With Reflectiong Shpere   M.C. Escher

No Labor-Saving Machine

by Walt Whitman
NO labor-saving machine,
Nor discovery have I made;
Nor will I be able to leave behind me any wealthy bequest to found a hospital or library,
Nor reminiscence of any deed of courage, for America,
Nor literary success, nor intellect—nor book for the book-shelf;
Only a few carols, vibrating through the air, I leave,
For comrades and lovers.

Sleigh Ride

Central Park Winter Skating Pond    Currier and Ives

The First Sleigh-Ride

by Evaleen Stein

O happy time of fleecy rime 

And falling flakes, and O 

The glad surprise in baby eyes 

That never saw the snow!

Down shining ways the flying sleighs 

Go jingling by, and see! 

Beside the gate the horses wait 

And neigh for you and me!

Antiquity's Disquietude

Approach of the Simoon, Desert of Gizeh  David Roberts

Ozymandias
                by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".

Unreal!

Cow  Andy Warhol

The Purple Cow
                by Gelett Burgess
(Reflections on a Mythic Beast
Who's Quite Remarkable, at Least.)

I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one