Israfel, Shadow of Perfect Bliss - Fine Art Print

The ecstasies above
   With thy burning measures suit—   
Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,
   With the fervour of thy lute—
   Well may the stars be mute!
Yes, Heaven is thine; but this
   Is a world of sweets and sours;
   Our flowers are merely—flowers,   
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
   Is the sunshine of ours.
If I could dwell
Where Israfel
   Hath dwelt, and he where I,
He might not sing so wildly well
   A mortal melody,
While a bolder note than this might swell   
   From my lyre within the sky.

Printed on premium 240gsm photographic stock with a satin finish.

Pictured frame not included.