Daylilies and Dragonflies by Robert Bateman is such a fun painting for summer! His work is so realistic it is better than a photograph.
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| © Robert Bateman |
A reader kindly let me know that the link to my Picassa Web Album of Robert Bateman Paintings wasn't coming up. I had not realized that I needed to set it to a public viewer setting, so I am sorry to any of you who tried earlier and found it inaccessible it should be accessible now. Also the Robert Bateman foundation has graciously given copies of the paintings we are using in a larger format with more pixels so they should be better for printing for your educational use. Sorry to any of you who have previously tried and had trouble and thank you to the reader who let me know the difficulties.
A lively happy piece of music today by Franz Joseph Haydn, "Sunrise".
Our poem today by Phillis Wheatley goes nicely with our music -
An Hymn To The Morning
An Hymn To The Morning
ATTEND my lays, ye ever honour'd nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather'd race resume,
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume.
Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display
To shield your poet from the burning day:
Calliope awake the sacred lyre,
While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire:
The bow'rs, the gales, the variegated skies
In all their pleasures in my bosom rise.
See in the east th' illustrious king of day!
His rising radiance drives the shades away--
But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong,
And scarce begun, concludes th' abortive song.
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather'd race resume,
Dart the bright eye, and shake the painted plume.
Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display
To shield your poet from the burning day:
Calliope awake the sacred lyre,
While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire:
The bow'rs, the gales, the variegated skies
In all their pleasures in my bosom rise.
See in the east th' illustrious king of day!
His rising radiance drives the shades away--
But Oh! I feel his fervid beams too strong,
And scarce begun, concludes th' abortive song.
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