Israfel, Shadow of Perfect Bliss
The ecstasies above
With thy burning measures suit—
Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,
With the fervour of thy lute—
Well may the stars be mute!
Yes, Heaven is thine; but this
Is a world of sweets and sours;
Our flowers are merely—flowers,
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
Is the sunshine of ours.
If I could dwell
Hath dwelt, and he where I,
He might not sing so wildly well
A mortal melody,
While a bolder note than this might swell
From my lyre within the sky.
Only 100 copies ever to be printed
Printed, signed and numbered by Peter Mohrbacher
Image Size: 16" wide x 21 ½″ tall
Paper Size: 18" wide x 24" tall
Printed on archival 300 gsm coated paper with archival pigment based ink
Israfel, Angel of Song
The burning one.
Herald of the dawning day.
Summoner of the final hour.
written by Peter Mohrbacher