Studio: international art (16.1899)

Sir Edward Burne-Jones

very rarely shroud its skies, its gales are all favour- the sage consolation of the great god Pan; such

ing and gentle, frost and snow are almost unknown, even the more barren tract through which Love

nor does the midday sun strike too fiercely down, leads the travelworn pilgrim.

for its daughters go lightly clad, fearing no chill, But we must explore it, if we would, in more

and bare - headed orderly fashion,

affront the shafts At first Burne-

close of one blends closed around to

the mysterious re- r-''*J|S K,," unless some distant

fulgence of the mountain range

dawn that ushers Hjk '-^mB frowned from above

in the next. Its it.

nor threatening, „ almost the very first

° "love disguised as reason ,. , . .

and the meadows BY sir edward burne-jones he exercised with

lying at their feet (From a photograph by F. Hollyer) extraordinary skill.

are fertile and It is not till Cupid

blossom-clad. Such sets up his forge,

is the beautiful valley wherein the maidens cluster while his daughter tempers the arrow-heads in the

round the shining pool, thick studded with water- oblong marble trough, that we find ourselves, for the

lily leaves and blue forget-me-nots, what time Venus first time, in one of those tree-engirdled pleasaunces

first reveals to them the secret of her mirror; such so frequent in the land. Clerk Saunders woos the

is the rock-girt lawn washed by the glassy stream half-yielding, half-reluctant May Margaret in a yet

from which'the hapless Psyche steps to listen to more extended landscape, where a little town