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The "Soul of the Rose" Oil Painting Canvas Print in Large Ornate Gilded Wood Frame
The "Soul of the Rose" Oil Painting Canvas Print in Large Ornate Gilded Wood Frame The "Soul of the Rose" Oil Painting Canvas Print in Large Ornate Gilded Wood Frame The "Soul of the Rose" Oil Painting Canvas Print in Large Ornate Gilded Wood Frame The "Soul of the Rose" Oil Painting Canvas Print in Large Ornate Gilded Wood Frame

The "Soul of the Rose" Oil Painting Canvas Print in Large Ornate Gilded Wood Frame

$200.00

Brand Unknown

Here's a wonderful oil painting print on canvas which is framed in an ornate gold tone, wooden frame.   "The Soul of the Rose" is the title of the painting completed in 1908 by John William Waterhouse.   It depicts a woman with Auburn hair, adorned in a teal-green-blue robe, smelling a climbing pink rose in a garden setting. The painting is known for its romantic and sensual atmosphere, and is thought to be inspired by Alfred Lord Tennyson's  poem "Come into the Garden, Maud". The painting is also sometimes referred to as "My Sweet Rose". 
Large Vintage professionally framed textured canvas print.  The painting is by John William Waterhouse and titled The Soul of the Rose. 

23” x 30”

frame is solid wood and beautifully gilded and carved

Hanging hardware attached. Ready to hang!

 

John William Waterhouse  RA (baptised 6 April 1849 – 10 February 1917) was an English painter known for working first in the Academic style and for then embracing the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood's  style and subject matter. His paintings are known for their depictions of women from both Ancient Greek Mythology and Arthurian legends. A high proportion depict a single young and beautiful woman in a historical costume and setting, though there are some ventures into Orientalist painting and genre painting, still mostly featuring women.

Born in Rome to English parents who were both painters, Waterhouse later moved to London, where he enrolled in the Royal Academy of Art Schools. He soon began exhibiting at their annual summer exhibitions, focusing on the creation of large canvas works depicting scenes from the daily life and mythology of Ancient Greece. Many of his paintings are based on authors such as Homer, Ovid, Shakespeare, Tennyson, or Keats. 

Waterhouse's work is displayed in many major art museums and galleries, and the Royal Academy of Arts organised a major retrospective of his work in 2009.

 

 

Come into the garden Maud

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

 

Come into the garden, Maud,
     For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
     I am here at the gate alone ;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
     And the musk of the rose is blown.
 
For a breeze of morning moves,
     And the planet of Love is on high,
Beginning to faint in the light that she loves
     On a bed of daffodil sky,
To faint in the light of the sun she loves,
     To faint in his light, and to die.
 
All night have the roses heard
     The flute, violin, bassoon ;
All night has the casement jessamine stirred
     To the dancers dancing in tune ;
Till a silence fell with the waking bird,
     And a hush with the setting moon.
 
I said to the lily, ‘There is but one
     With whom she has heart to be gay.
When will the dancers leave her alone ?
     She is weary of dance and play.’
Now half to the setting moon are gone,
     And half to the rising day ;
Low on the sand and loud on the stone
     The last wheel echoes away.
 
I said to the rose, ‘The brief night goes
     In babble and revel and wine.
O young lord-lover, what sighs are those,
     For one that will never be thine ?
But mine, but mine,’ so I sware to the rose,
     ‘For ever and ever, mine.’
 
And the soul of the rose went into my blood,
     As the music clashed in the hall ;
And long by the garden lake I stood,
     For I heard your rivulet fall
From the lake to the meadow and on to the wood,
     Our wood, that is dearer than all ;
 
From the meadow your walks have left so sweet
     That whenever a March-wind sighs
He sets the jewel-print of your feet
     In violets blue as your eyes,
To the woody hollows in which we meet
     And the valleys of Paradise.
 
The slender acacia would not shake
     One long milk-bloom on the tree ;
The white lake-blossom fell into the lake
     As the pimpernel dozed on the lea ;
But the rose was awake all night for your sake,
     Knowing your promise to me ;
The lilies and roses were all awake,
     They sighed for the dawn and thee.
 
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
     Come hither, the dances are done,
In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,
     Queen lily and rose in one ;
Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls,
     To the flowers, and be their sun.
 
There has fallen a splendid tear
     From the passion-flower at the gate.
She is coming, my dove, my dear ;
     She is coming, my life, my fate ;
The red rose cries, ‘She is near, she is near ;’
     And the white rose weeps, ‘She is late ;’
The larkspur listens, ‘I hear, I hear ;’
     And the lily whispers, ‘I wait.’
 
She is coming, my own, my sweet,
     Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
      Were it earth in an earthy bed ;
My dust would hear her and beat,
     Had I lain for a century dead ;
Would start and tremble under her feet,
     And blossom in purple and red.