Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Diurgærden.
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the flower-garland is an ugly young thing, and
on seeing Hero with the weeping Cupid, one
thinks of a pose arranged by a ballet-master.
Let us, however, see what is pretty. The
little Cupid-seller is pretty, and the stone is
made as flexible as life in the waists of the
bathing-women. One of them, as she steps out,
feels the water with her feet, and we feel, with her,
a sensation that the water is cold. The coolness
of the marble-hall realizes this feeling. Let us go
out into the sunshine, and up to the neighbouring
cliff, which rises above the mansions and
houses. Here the wild roses shoot forth from the
crevices in the rock; the sunbeams fall prettily
between the splendid pines and the graceful
birches, upon the high grass before the colossal
bronze bust of Bellmann. This place was the
favourite one of that Scandinavian improvisatore.
Here he lay in the grass, composed and
sang his anacreontic songs, and here, in the
summer-time, his annual festival is held. We
will raise his altar here in the red evening sunlight.
It is a flaming bowl, raised high on the
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