![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
Now the country does not even boast a tree,
As you see,
To distinguish slopes of verdure, certain rills
From the hills
Intersect and give a name to, (else they run
Into one)
Where the domed and daring palace shot its spires
Up like fires
O'er the hundred-gated circuit of a wall
Bounding all
Made of marble, men might march on nor be prest
Twelve abreast.
From Love among the ruins by Robert Browning
All images are Copyright © John A Graham 2004 to 2023
joseantonio | 03-Apr-2012 19:26 | |
janescottcumming | 12-Mar-2012 23:02 | |
Patricia Kay | 12-Mar-2012 20:14 | |
Bill Miller | 12-Mar-2012 19:05 | |
Buz Kiefer | 12-Mar-2012 18:17 | |
Sheila | 12-Mar-2012 02:28 | |
Guest | 12-Mar-2012 01:49 | |
Ray :) | 12-Mar-2012 01:28 | |
Cindi Smith | 12-Mar-2012 01:18 | |
lou_rozensteins | 12-Mar-2012 00:35 | |
s_barbour | 11-Mar-2012 22:56 | |
Faye White | 11-Mar-2012 22:39 | |
Mairéad | 11-Mar-2012 22:26 | |
marie-jose wolff | 11-Mar-2012 22:19 | |
Martin Lamoon | 11-Mar-2012 22:12 | |
Máire Uí Mhaicín | 11-Mar-2012 21:34 | |
chris morton | 11-Mar-2012 21:23 | |
laine | 11-Mar-2012 20:48 | |
Zak | 11-Mar-2012 20:33 | |
Colin Storey | 11-Mar-2012 20:22 | |
malcolm haslam | 11-Mar-2012 19:51 | |
Phillip Normanton | 11-Mar-2012 19:36 | |
globalgadabout | 11-Mar-2012 19:33 | |
Brian Samuel | 11-Mar-2012 19:19 | |
Guest | 11-Mar-2012 19:13 | |