cf. video by Ventus17 via Pixabay
Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me!
You would play upon me;
You would seem to know my stops;
You would pluck out the heart of my mystery;
You would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass;
and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ;
Yet cannot you make it speak…
“Wallflower” – Splender
cf. Vincent van Gogh, “Starry Night” (1888)
Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love.
cf. Tony Walsh, “Baubles, Bangles and Beads, Beads, Beads” (Cincinnati Magazine, 1983)
“Ten Fingers” – The Pursuit of Happiness
“Specimen Of Platinotype After Development”
from “The Book Of Photography, Practical, Theoretic And Applied”, Paul N. Hasluck, Ed. (1907)
O good Horatio, I’ll take the ghost’s word for a thousand pound. Didst perceive?
Very well, my lord.
Upon the talk of the poisoning?
I did very well note him.
Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders!
For if the king like not the comedy,
Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy.
Come, some music!
Got one for the money
Two for the show
Three for my honey
And four to let you know that I
Let the music do the talking…
Martinus Rørbye, View from the Citadel Ramparts in Copenhagen by Moonlight (1839)
Last night of all,
When yond same star that’s westward from the pole
Had made his course to illume that part of heaven
Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself,
The bell then beating one,–
Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again!
In the same figure, like the king that’s dead.
Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio.
Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio.
Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder.
—Hamlet, Act I, Scene I