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| Hans Thoma Satyr Head ca. 1890 drawing (design for majolica fountain) Städel Museum, Frankfurt |
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| Hans Thoma Portrait of arts patron Sofie Küchler 1895 drawing Städel Museum, Frankfurt |
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| Hans Thoma Tulips ca. 1905 drawing (print study for alphabet book) Städel Museum, Frankfurt |
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| Hans Thoma Self Portrait VI with Flower 1919 drypoint National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa |
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| Thomas Lawrence Study Head - Young Woman ca. 1810-20 oil on canvas North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh |
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| Thomas Lawrence Portrait of William Eden, Baron Auckland 1792 oil on canvas Christ Church Picture Gallery, Oxford |
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| Thomas Lawrence Portrait of sculptor Antonio Canova ca. 1816-20 oil on canvas North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh |
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| Thomas Lawrence Portrait of Abraham Redwood 1791 oil on canvas Redwood Library and Athenaeum, Newport, Rhode Island |
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| Sebald Beham Allegory of Victorious Christianity before 1550 engraving Wichita Art Museum, Kansas |
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| Sebald Beham Coat of Arms of Hector Pömer ca. 1525 woodcut Graphische Sammlung, ETH Zürich |
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| Sebald Beham Penitence of St John Chrysostom (the saint is located in the distance at left on all fours) before 1550 engraving Wichita Art Museum, Kansas |
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| Sebald Beham St John the Evangelist ca. 1541 engraving Herzog Anton Ulrich Museum, Braunschweig |
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| Marsden Hartley Abstraction ca. 1914 oil on board Museum of Fine Arts, Houston |
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| Marsden Hartley Melons ca. 1927 oil on canvas Indianapolis Museum of Art |
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| Marsden Hartley On the Beach ca. 1940-41 oil on panel Portland Museum of Art, Maine |
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| Marsden Hartley The Lost Felice ca. 1939-40 oil on canvas Los Angeles County Museum of Art |
from Part Two of The Age of Anxiety
Rosetta said nothing but, placing a nickel in the Wallomatic, selected a sad little tune The Case is Closed (Tchaikovsky-Fink) and sang to it softly:
Deep in my dark the dream shines
Yes, of you, you dear always;
My cause to cry, cold but my
Story still, still my music.
Yes, of you, you dear always;
My cause to cry, cold but my
Story still, still my music.
Mild rose the moon, moving through our
Naked nights: tonight it rains;
Black umbrellas blossom out;
Gone the gold, my golden ball.
Heavy these hands. I believed
That pleased pause, your pause was me
That pleased pause, your pause was me
To love alone till life's end:
I thought this; this was not true.
You touched, you took. Tears fall. O
Fair my far, when far ago
Like waterwheels wishes spun
Radiant robes: but the robes tore.
– W.H. Auden (1944-46)
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