The silver Swan, who, living, had no Note, when Death approached, unlocked her silent throat. Leaning her breast upon the reedy shore, thus sang her first and last, and sang no more: 'Farewell, all joys! O Death, come close mine… — Orlando Gibbons Copy Share Image
The silver Swan, who, living, had no Note, when Death approached, unlocked her silent throat. Leaning her breast upon the reedy shore, thus sang… — Orlando Gibbons Copy Share Image
It is proportion that beautifies everything, the whole universe consists of it, and music is measured by it. — Orlando Gibbons Copy Share Image
The silver swan, who, living had no note, When death approached unlocked her silent throat. — Orlando Gibbons Copy Share Image
