<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386588" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The art of alma-tadema</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is no song his colours cannot sing, <br> For all his art breathes melody, and tunes <br>The fine, keen beauty that his brushes bring <br> To murmuring marbles and to golden Junes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The music of those marbles you can hear <br> In every crevice, where the deep green stains <br>Have sunken when the grey days of the year <br> Spilled leisurely their warm, incessant rains </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That, lingering, forget to leave the ledge, <br> But drenched into the seams, amid the hush <br>Of ages, leaving but the silent pledge <br> To waken to the wonder of his brush. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And at the Master's touch the marbles leap <br> To life, the creamy onyx and the skins <br>Of copper-coloured leopards, and the deep, <br> Cool basins where the whispering water wins </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Reflections from the gold and glowing sun, <br> And tints from warm, sweet human flesh, for fair <br>And subtly lithe and beautiful, leans one-- <br> A goddess with a wealth of tawny hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Emily+Pauline+Johnson">Emily Pauline Johnson</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=386588" data-title="The art of alma-tadema de Emily Pauline Johnson" data-description="There is no song his colours cannot sing, For all his art breathes melody, and tunes The fine, keen beauty that his brushes bring To murmuring marbles and to golden Junes. The music of those marbles you can hear In every crevice, where th..."></div> </div> </div>

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