Laid Bare

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour’d upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
– Shakespeare, Richard III

bare

One thought

  1. Pingback: WPC:Seasons (Parliament) | Chris Breebaart Photography / What's (in) the picture?

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