sexta-feira, 13 de abril de 2018

Art Criticism

First bring me Raffael, who alone hath seen 
In all her purity heaven’s virgin queen,          
Alone hath felt true beauty; bring me then   
Titian, ennobler of the noblest men;   
And next the sweet Correggio, nor chastise          
His little Cupids for those wicked eyes.           
I want not Rubens’s pink puffy bloom,           
Nor Rembrandt’s glimmer in a dusty room.  
With those, and Poussin’s nymph-frequented woods,      
His templed heights and long-drawn solitudes,               
I am content, yet fain would look abroad      
On one warm sunset of Ausonian Claude.

Walter Savage Landor

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