• In a world of separation, art connects

TODAY

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SHE DWELT AMONG THE UNTRODDEN WAYS

She dwelt among the untrodden ways

Beside the springs of Dove,

A Maid whom there were none to praise

And very few to love:

 

 A violet by a mossy stone

Half hidden from the eye!

—Fair as a star, when only one

Is shining in the sky.

 

She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lucy ceased to be;

But she is in her grave, and, oh,

The difference to me!

(W.Wordsworth)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The last update: December 2009.

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