Beneath our feet a fairy pathway flows, The grass still glitters in the summer breeze, The dusky wood, and distant copse appear, And that lone stream, upon whose chequerยd face We mused, when noon-rays made the pebbles gleam, Is mirrorยd to the mind: though all around Be rattling hoofs and roaring wheels, the eye Is wandยring where the heart delights to dwell.
Robert Montgomery...but when The Spirit speaks,โor beauty from the sky Descends into my being,โwhen I hear The storm-hymns of the mighty ocean roll, Or thunder sound,โthe champion of the storm!โ Then I feel envy for immortal words, The rush of living thought; oh! then I long To dash my feelings into deathless verse, That may administer to unborn time, And tell some lofty soul how I have lived A worshipper of Nature and of Thee!
Robert MontgomeryThe people you love become ghosts inside of you, and like this you keep them alive.
Robert MontgomeryOh! now to be alone, on some grand height, Where heavenโs black curtains shadow all the sight, And watch the swollen clouds their bosom clash, While fleet and far the living lightnings flash... And see the fiery arrows fall and rise, In dizzy chase along the rattling skies,โ How stirs the spirit while the echoes roll, And God, in thunder, rocks from pole to pole!
Robert MontgomeryObviously my own work comes from a conceptual art tradition, but I love the graffiti artists, and I feel spiritually closer to them than to most contemporary art; they make the city a free space of diverse voices and we shouldn't get all cynical about them just because Banksy made some money. I collaborate sometimes with Krae, who is an old school east London graffiti writer.
Robert Montgomery