Vintage Art Appreciation: Rain in May by Arthur Wesley Dow

The rain to the wind said,
You push and I'll pelt.
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged--though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.
― Robert Frost

But he calls down a blessing on the blossom of the may,
Because it comes in beauty, and in beauty blows away.
― W.B. Yeats, Stories of Red Hanrahan

Artwork is titled “Rain in May” and was painted c1907 by Arthur Wesley Dow (1857–1922). Originally found on Wikimedia. Digitally enhanced version of the painting as an 11” x 14” @ 300 ppi JPEG here.


Digitally enhanced reproductions of public domain fine art are shared under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

Vintage Botanical Illustrations: Two Varieties of Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
― William Wordsworth Longfellow, I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

Two varieties of daffodils: “Sir Watkin” (top) and “Paper White” (bottom); both botanical illustrations from c1896. You can download the images above as 3" x 4" @ 300 ppi JPEGs here and here. Great for collage, graphic design, junk journal, scrapbooking or stamping projects.


From my personal collection of ephemera. These images are to be incorporated into your creative works. Not for resale "as-is." Credit to FieldandGarden.com appreciated but not required.

Free Vintage Illustrated Nature Poem: Dreams by Constance Morgan

A long low sweep of clouds which trembling lie
Across the golden-glinted West, and far
Beyond the twilight gates one lonely star
Waits calm and still to watch the daylight die.

Like to the sweep of God’s white garment there,
The summer moonlight sleeps upon the sea
Like to a vision of Eternity,
Like to a love that cometh unaware.

A mystic lyre swept by the summer wind,
A far-off echo in the falling rain,
A song of joy, a wild deep sob of pain,
A whisper from the years that lie behind.

Is it a dream grown holy, grown divine,
For all life’s toling, all earth’s pain and care,
Grown perfect by the loving unaware–
Grown tender by the moonlight’s silver shine?

Perchance it may be only dreaming; yet,
When Life’s dim twilight angel spread his wings
Over the weariness of earthly things,
What shall we then remember―what forget?

Good-night! The glow has faded from the sky,
Leaving behind a ruddy starlight gleam,
And in my heart the mem’ry of a dream.
Hush! for the day lies dead. Good-night―good-bye.

Late 19th century (Victorian) poem of loss and mourning by Constance Morgan called “Dreams.” You can find a printable copy of the poem as a high-res 11” x 8” @ 300 ppi JPEG without a watermark here.


From my personal collection of ephemera. These images are to be incorporated into your creative works. Not for resale “as-is.” Credit to FieldandGarden.com appreciated but not required.