The Wunderkammer of the Mild Colonial Boy, Esq., a Reactionary Tory Gentleman, who armed only with a Steampowered Babbage Engine and Pure Intentions, wanders the Time Streams and Aetheric Plane gathering an Eccentric Hodgepodge of Curiousities, Frivolities, Whimsicalities and Nonsense.
Q. Why is your Tumblelog called "My Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning"?
A. Because "My Grandmother's Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning" wouldn't fit in the available space.
Q. Why is your Tumblelog called "My Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning"?
A. Because "My Grandmother's Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning" wouldn't fit in the available space.
Foot-feather’d Mercury appear’d sublime.
Robert Anning Bell, from Poems by John Keats, London, New York, 1897.
(Source: archive.org)
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He play’d an ancient ditty, long since mute
Close to her ear touching the melodyRobert Anning Bell, from Poems by John Keats, London, New York, 1897.
(Source: archive.org)
- Reblogged from oldbookillustrations
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- r. a. bell
- j. keats
- poems by john keats
- england
- 19th century
- victorian
- romantic
- art nouveau
- music









