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| Hans Hammarskiöld Composition 1948 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Untitled 1948 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld May Day 1952 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Fulham Cemetery, London 1955 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Caroline 1955 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Claes Oldenburg, London 1966 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Erik Höglund 1967 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Hepaticas 1975 C-print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Untitled 1976 C-print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Hamra, Gotland 1977 C-print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Bastugatan, Stockholm 1980 C-print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Meret Oppenheim 1982 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Mariaberget, Stockholm 1985 C-print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Erica 1987 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Vila II 1994 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Untitled 2002 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Hans Hammarskiöld Untitled 2002 gelatin silver print Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
Ode Ten, Book Two
Of thy lyfe, Thomas, this compasse well mark:
Not aye with full sayles the hye seas to beat,
Ne by coward dred, in shonning stormes dark,
On shalow shores thy keel in perill freat.
Who so gladly halseth the golden meane
Voyde of dangers advisdly hath his home:
Nor with lothsom muck, and a den uncleane,
Nor with lothsom muck, and a den uncleane,
Nor palacelyke wherat disdayn may glome.
The lofty pyne the great winde often rives;
With violenter sway falne turrets stepe;
Lightninges assault the hye mountains and clives.
A hart well stayd, in overthwartes depe,
Hopeth amendes; in swete doth feare the sowre,
God that sendeth withdrawth winter sharp.
Now ill, not aye thus. Once Phebus to lowr
With bow unbent shall cease, and frame to harp
His voyce. In straite estate appere thou stout:
And so wisely, when lucky gale of winde
All thy puft sailes shall fill, loke well about,
Take in a ryft. Hast is wast, profe doth finde.
– Horace (65-8 BC), translated by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey (before 1547)