O, Were I Loved

O' Were I Loved - 1600.jpg
O' Were I Loved - 1600.jpg
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O, Were I Loved


O, Were I Loved - 24”x40” oil on linen.

The title of the painting comes from a sonnet by Alfred Tennyson

O, WERE I loved as I desire to be!  
What is there in the great sphere of the earth,  
Or range of evil between death and birth,  
That I should fear,—if I were loved by thee?
All the inner, all the outer world of pain,
Clear love would pierce and cleave, if thou wert mine;  
As I have heard that somewhere in the main  
Fresh-water springs come up through bitter brine.
’T were joy, not fear, clasped hand in hand with thee,  
To wait for death—mute—careless of all ills,
Apart upon a mountain, though the surge
Of some new deluge from a thousand hills  
Flung leagues of roaring foam into the gorge  
Below us, as far on as eye could see.

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