William Percy French
Celestial Painting (Sunset at Renvyle)
When painters leave this world, we grieve
For the hand that will work no more,
But who can say that they rest alway
On that still celestial shore?
No! No! they choose from the rainbow hues,
And winging from Paradise,
They come to paint, now bold now faint,
The tones of our sunset skies.
When I see them there I can almost swear
That grey is from Whistler's brain!
That crimson flush was Turner's brush!
And the gold is Claude Lorraine.
William Percy French's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Celestial Painting (Sunset at Renvyle) by William Percy French )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
- A Cloud In Trousers - part I, Vladimir Vladimirovich Mayak ..
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- So Let Us Love, Edmund Spenser
- Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
Poem of the Day
- Firebird Sunset, Salvatore Ala
- Flicker, Jessica Paige Davies
- I will always return, Jessica Paige Davies
- They are my horses, Jessica Paige Davies
- HOW THEY ALL FALL, Terry Collett
- Caucus at the Parking Meter, Donal Mahoney
- A Small Something, Jessica Paige Davies
- Shrouded, Jessica Paige Davies
- I Live, Tanja Henderson
- This year, maryline vautravers