Sheep and snow.

I am not a great reader of Poetry to be honest. Much of it passes me by like a random collection of words. I used to enjoy “ A child’s garden of verses,” by Robert Louise Stevenson when I was young. I remember it had wonderful illustrations by Charles Dobson.

I can manage a bit of Tennyson like:

Of old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet:
Above her shook the starry lights:
She heard the torrents meet.
There in her place she did rejoice,
Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind,
But fragments of her mighty voice
Came rolling on the wind.

Which somehow is appropriate to the painting of the Preseli’s. The painting was sold at the Newport Exhibition and bought by Lord Tennyson (current) whose ancestor penned the above extract. Very fitting I thought.

Alex is busy mounting prints which we picked up today.