Summer is Beautiful

Our new print L’été est magnifique!  Summer is Beautiful!  One only has to look at our beautiful creation and stand in awe of it and we are blessed to not only take in its beauty but to photograph it and create art that enhances our homes and life.  Enjoy what you see and capture it!

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Summer Days
IN summer, when the days were long,
We walk’d, two friends, in field and wood;
Our heart was light, our step was strong,
And life lay round us, fair as good,
In summer, when the days were long.

We stray’d from morn till evening came,

We gather’d flowers, and wove us crowns;
We walk’d mid poppies red as flame,
Or sat upon the yellow downs,
And always wish’d our life the same.
 
In summer, when the days were long,
We leap’d the hedgerow, cross’d the brook;
And still her voice flow’d forth in song,
Or else she read some graceful book,

In summer, when the days were long.
And then we sat beneath the trees,
With shadows lessening in the noon;
And in the sunlight and the breeze
We revell’d, many a glorious June,
While larks were singing o’er the leas.

In summer, when the days were long,
We pluck’d wild strawberries, ripe and red,
Or feasted, with no grace but song,
On golden nectar, snow-white bread,
In summer, when the days were long.

We lov’d, and yet we knew it not,
For loving seem’d like breathing then;
We found a heaven in every spot;
Saw angels, too, in all good men,
And dream’d of gods in grove and grot.

In summer, when the days are long,
Alone I wander, muse alone;
I see her not, but that old song
Under the fragrant wind is blown,
In summer, when the days are long.
 
Alone I wander in the wood,
But one fair spirit hears my sighs;
And half I see the crimson hood,
The radiant hair, the calm glad eyes,
That charm’d me in life’s summer mood.
 
In summer, when the days are long,
I love her as I lov’d of old;
My heart is light, my step is strong,
For love brings back those hours of gold,
In summer, when the days are long.
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Wathen Marks Wilks Call (1817–90)
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Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2017 All Rights Reserved – No Reblogs Please. Thank You

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Love’s Not Times Fool

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no, it is an ever-fixèd mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand’ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his heighth be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved.
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”*

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* Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare
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Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2017 All Rights Reserve

Gold and Crimson Sunset Lands

We at JayJacy are announcing our new “Sunrise-Sunset” Art on Canvas Collection is forthcoming soon just in time for the spring “Apple Blossom Festival” and Art Exhibit as well as the Classy Chic Home Design Show and Sale. We wanted to share a sneak peek with you here at our JayJacy, HDRCHIC and ClassyChicHome. Be encouraged to enjoy the beauty of the art and photography you create by showcasing it many wonderful ways. Enjoy!

JayJacy Photography

 

The Four Winds

WIND of the North,
Wind of the Norland snows,
Wind of the winnowed skies, and sharp, clear stars,—
Blow cold and keen across the naked hills,
And crisp the lowland pools with crystal films,
And blur the casement squares with glittering ice,
But go not near my love.

Wind of the West,
Wind of the few, far clouds,
Wind of the gold and crimson sunset lands,-
Blow fresh and pure across the peaks and plains,
And broaden the blue spaces of the heavens,
And sway the grasses and the mountain pines,
But let my dear one rest.

Wind of the East,
Wind of the sunrise seas,
Wind of the clinging mists and gray, harsh rains,—
Blow moist and chill across the wastes of brine,
And shut the sun out, and the moon and stars,
And lash the boughs against the dripping eaves,
Yet keep thou from my love.

But thou, sweet wind!
Wind of the fragrant South,
Wind from the bowers of jasmine and of rose,—
Over magnolia blooms and lilied lakes
And flowering forests come with dewy wings,
And stir the petals at her feet, and kiss
The low mound where she lies.

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Charles Henry Luders

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Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2017 All Rights Reserved
No Reblogs Please. Thank You