Tuesday, February 26, 2013

“Orpheus with his lute made Trees”

Orpheus with his Lute made Trees,
And the Mountaine tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing.
To his Musicke, Plants and Flowers
Ever sprung; as Sunne and Showers,
There had made a lasting Spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Even the Billowes of the Sea,
Hung their heads, & then lay by.
In sweet Musicke is such Art,
Killing care, & griefe of heart,
Fall asleepe, or hearing dye.
— William Shakespeare, from Henry VIII, III : 1 (Queen Katharine)
Franz von Stuck, Orpheus (1891)

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