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Henry Moore Composition 1934 bronze Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Stringed Figure no. 1 1937 cherry wood and string on oak base Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Miners 1942 ink and crayon on paper Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Studies for Reclining Figures 1944 graphite, ink, crayon and watercolor on paper Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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Henry Moore Britain (from the United Nations series) 1944 ink, crayon, watercolor and gouache on paper Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Maquette for Family Group 1944 bronze Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Family Group 1946 bronze Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Studies for Reclining Figures 1948 graphite, crayon, watercolor and gouache on paper Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Three Standing Figures 1953 bronze Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Venice |
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Henry Moore Maquette for Figure on Steps 1956 bronze Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Seated Woman 1956-57 bronze Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Koerner Henry Moore 1959 oil on canvas (commissioned by Time magazine) National Portrait Gallery, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Reclining Mother and Child 1960-61 bronze Walker Art Center, Minneapolis |
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Henry Moore Large Slow Form 1962 bronze Tate Modern, London |
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David Levine Henry Moore 1966 drawing Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Three-Way Piece no. 3: Vertebrae 1968 bronze Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
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Henry Moore Two-Piece Reclining Figure: Points 1969-70 bronze Hirshhorn Museum, Washington DC |
from The First Ode of the Fourth Book of Horace
Again? new Tumults in my Breast?
Ah spare me, Venus! let me, let me rest!
I am not now, alas! the man
As in the gentle Reign of My Queen Anne.
Ah sound no more thy soft alarms,
Nor circle sober fifty with thy Charms.
Mother too fierce of dear Desires!
Turn, turn to willing Hearts your wanton fires.
To Number five direct your Doves,
There spread round Murray all your blooming Loves;
Noble and young, who strike the heart
With every sprightly, every decent part;
Equal, the injured to defend,
To charm the Mistress, or to fix the Friend.
He, with a hundred Arts refined
Shall stretch thy Conquests over half the kind:
To him each Rival shall submit,
Make but his riches equal to his Wit.
Then shall thy Form the Marble grace,
(Thy Grecian Form) and Chloe lend the Face:
His House, embosomed in the Grove,
Sacred to social Life and social Love,
Shall glitter o'er the pendent green,
Where Thames reflects the visionary Scene.
Thither, the silver-sounding Lyres
Shall call the smiling Loves, and young Desires;
There, every Grace and Muse shall throng,
Exalt the Dance, or animate the Song;
There, Youths and Nymphs, in consort gay,
Shall hail the rising, close the parting day.
With me, alas! those joys are o'er;
For me the vernal Garlands bloom no more.
– Horace (65-8 BC), translated by Alexander Pope (1737)